Messages from the Mirror
by burnthebook
Summary: Ive lived in hiding for years, Ive kept my head down and ive avoided making friends just to stay hidden from the hunters who killed my family. Everyday I go to the same café after my boring job at a used bookstore. Until one day I get a warning written in the steam on my bathroom mirror. Saying if I went to the café it would get me killed. I live alone, or at least I thought I did.
1. Relapse

**I own all OC's and this story. I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. Any affiliation to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.** **There is mention of gun violence in a few of these chapters. Readers discretion is advised.**

 **A/N: Id like to start out by saying this story is not the happiest. Heartbreak, tragedy, and betrayal play very large roles in these characters lives. This story is being heavily edited. So if things have changed a little since the last time you read it, that is why. The face claim for Brayden is Margaret Qualley.**

It was like I was there again, like it was that awful night. I could hear the screaming of my family, I could smell the blood and the smoke. My legs ached as I ran through the woods. My sneakers crushing the leaves on the ground. I could feel the fear and the pain course through my veins just like it had that night. The night the hunters came.

I awoke with a jolt, sending pieces of my dark hair into my face. This has happened so many times before, I can't go a week without having the same nightmare. It never changes no matter how much I try, no matter how hard I will the scene to change before my eyes. It never does. It probably never will. I look around my bedroom with a worried look on my face. _Why is the room so bright this early in the morning?_ I take a glance toward my alarm clock, scared for what I might see. 9:37AM, it read. My shift starts at 9.

"Oh no, no, no, no!" I yell, flinging the blankets off and springing out of my bed.

I run across the room to my adjoining bathroom and turn on the shower. There is no time to wash my hair so dry shampoo will have to work for today. I pull my long hair up into a bun and get in the shower as fast as I possibly could.

I rushed to put on an olive green t-shirt, jean shorts and sandals. I took my hair out of the bun it had been in and brushed it out into its natural loose waves. I managed to line my grey eyes and put on a little bit of mascara in the chaos. I adjusted the gold locket around my neck that I always wear as I frantically search for my purse. I looked on the couch, by the front door, in my bedroom, where the hell is my bag? I finally found it sitting on the island in the kitchen, right where I had left it. Today of all days to lose something.

I left my apartment a few minutes later and started to speed walk down the street. I've always enjoyed walking to work. The cool air is calming and in Seattle there is a coffee shop on nearly every street corner, which puts some of the scent in the air. Today was not that relaxing. I sped walked all the way to work, not having time to stop and smell the sweet, sweet, smell of coffee.

"Archer! You're late!" my boss Max yells with his faint Japanese accent. He always calls me by my last name, some days I think it's because he can't remember that my name is Brayden. Max was in his mid-50s and he already has a balding head. Didn't really take away from any of his looks since he had none. He was short and kind of ugly.

One might ask me why, exactly, I work here. It's simply because I don't want to deal with a ton of customers. What's the point of hiding if you see a lot of people per day? I don't need the money either I just need something to do.

"Sorry Max, I woke up late!" I plead.

"Whatever. I need you to shelve the new shipment. The boxes are in the back. Each box is labeled which genre it is so that will tell you where to shelve books." He explains.

"Got it." I reply.

I walked to the back of the store and past the curtain separating the store from the area dedicated to storing boxes, cleaning supplies, and a refrigerator. There were about 10 boxes, each of them looking to be about 30lbs. I sigh as I pick up the closest box. This was going to take a while.

The first box was a couple dozen Teen Fiction books. I lugged the box to the section in the store dedicated to the genre. One by one I shelved the books. Looking at all the fake friends displayed on the covers reminded me about my current situation. Sure I'd like to have friends, but I could never risk getting attached to anyone. I can't risk letting people get to know me. That's too close to them figuring out what I am and having them tell anyone that would listen. That means one of two things; I get exposed in the media and get tested on in a science lab, or I get tracked down by hunters and killed. I am not taking any chances believe me.

My deep thoughts were interrupted by someone walking towards me. It was a girl about 17 or 18 with pink and blonde hair, glasses, and some band t-shirt on.

"Excuse me miss. Can you help me find a book series?" the girl asked me.

"Sure, what's it called?" I respond in my cheery customer service voice.

"It's called Supernatural by Carver Edlund." She answers. I have never even heard of this book series.

"I don't recognize the title, what genre is it? That's how we have the shelves organized." I said.

"It's kind of a Sci-Fi, type series." She says, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Follow me." I reply.

Those shelves were towards the back. She follows me to the shelves with the small sign above them saying 'Sci-Fi'. I look around each of the shelves, having to bend down to get to the lower levels. I finally found a bunch of books all with Fabio looking men on the cover. I don't normally judge, but in this case I can't help myself. I handed her the books that I could find under that title

"I'll be damned, you're the first place to actually have them. I've tried 4 other book stores." she says, dumbfounded.

"Well I'm glad you finally found them." I replied with the same perky voice I'd trained myself to use at work.

"Thanks again." She yelled back at me as she walked to the front to pay.

"Anytime." I respond. The idea of going back to shelve hundreds of books almost made me groan aloud. But i've got to get it done sometime. I finished off the rest of the box and headed to the back to start on the others.

I finished shelving the books by a little after 1pm. Since my shift wasn't over, I was then told to then start dusting everything. Oh sweet joy.

I went back into the back to get the duster. After shuffling a few things around I finally found it. It hadn't been used in a good month or so, so the store was pretty dusty. I started to dust on the top of each shelf, then work my way down. I was dusting near the front window when I caught a glimpse of something outside. It looked like…no, no, he's dead. My brother is dead.

Lots of people have black hair and are about that height. I was there the night my brother died. The night all of them died. Im just getting worked up over nothing. I sneezed from the dust but when I opened my eyes again he was gone. That nightmare must have effected me more than I had thought.

I finished up dusting for 15 minutes until my shift ends. Max was in his office on the couch, passed out, so I decided to slip out. I am exhausted from carrying all of those boxes and the mind-numbing dusting. I didn't even get to make some coffee this morning. I flip the sign to closed as make my way out.

Adjusting the purse on my shoulder I begin to make my way down the street to my favorite café. Every day after work, I go here to get a good cup of coffee. You won't even see it if you didn't know it was there. It blended in well to the other cafes and Starbucks' that lined many streets in Seattle.

 _Knight Café,_ read the large sign above the door. Charles Knight has owned this café for about 10 years with his wife until a few years ago, when she passed away from cancer. Charlie has kept the business going all these years somehow. Before his wife died, they had two children. Parker, their son is 9 years old. They also had a daughter named Anna who is now 7 years old. She looks just like her mother. I think Charlie sees a little bit of his wife every time he sees Anna. I walked through the front door to the café and was immediately greeted with the scent of freshly brewed coffee.

The café is almost never full when I come here. Today is no exception, there couldn't have been more than 10 people in here.

"Brayden! What can I get you?" Charlie calls from behind the counter.

"My usual Charlie!" I call back.

"You got it." He responds.

I go and take my usual seat on a stool at a table in the corner by a window. I turn towards the window to see it start to lightly rain. I watch the drops fall from the sky and collect in small puddles on the street. The image triggers a memory from my time before Seattle, when I was home.

I remember running in our backyard during a rainy summer day. I couldn't have been more than 7. Our dad was grilling, and mom was reading a book on the porch. I didn't know where Luke was, and I probably didn't care. I jumped through all the puddles that formed on the sidewalk, making sure not to miss a single one.

We lived in a small fishing village in Maine, my parents, my brother Luke, and I. It was a small town, where everyone was familiar and sadness seemed miles away. It felt like tragedy could never touch our perfect little town. Until I was 16, it never did. But all good things must come to an end.

"Here you are." Charlie says, snapping me back to reality, as he sets the paper cup down on the table in front of me. Their signature cartoon knight helmet on the side. I smile as a thank you.

"How are the kids?" I ask him.

"Good and bad, I'm afraid. Anna is at home sick, she's got a pretty bad cold. My sister's in town so she's looking after her for me. Parker is doing well, he's got a baseball tournament this weekend in Spokane that he's really excited for." He answers. He wore a look of pride on his face as he talked about his kids. They were his entire world now that his wife was gone.

"Aw well that's too bad about Anna. Tell her to feel better for me. Wish Parker luck for me as well." I reply. We don't live anywhere near each other, but the relationship I have with the Knights is very similar to neighbors. They barely knew my first name and where I worked. Nothing more.

The phone behind the counter started to ring and Charlie left to go answer it. I didn't mean to, but I listened in.

"Hello?" Charles said when he picked up the phone.

"Who is speaking?" the voice on the other end says.

"This is Charles Knight. How can I help you?" Charlie answers. The person on the other end hangs up.

"That was weird." Charlie says, looking at the phone with furrowed eyebrows.

"Probably just a wrong number." I offer.

"Yeah probably, but that's the third one I've gotten this week, all from different numbers." Charlie counters.

"You're right that is weird." I say as I sip my coffee. It's probably just a prank caller or something.

"Well I'd better get going. Thanks for the coffee." I say to Charlie as I get up to leave.

"You're welcome." Charlie replies.

I cross the café and walk through the door. It's still raining outside but I don't mind. It's only a sprinkle. I've always liked walking in the rain. Turning to walk to my apartment building I begin thinking about my family. My hand automatically reaches for the locket around my neck. Seeing that guy that looked like Luke really got to me. Luke and I weren't really that close when they all died. And part of me almost resented him because it was his fault the hunters came, it's his fault our family is dead. I fought back tears as I opened my apartment door. I can't keep doing this to myself, I can't keep holding on to the past. They're dead and there's no changing that. I quickly blinked the tears away and took a deep breath.

I shut the front door behind me and hang my purse on the rack hanging on the wall to the left of the front door. I set my cup of coffee on the island in the kitchen. Walking towards the hall way that leads to my bedroom I decide to get out of these wet clothes. I changed out of my jeans and hoodie and into a pair of black leggings and a long sleeve t-shirt. I shove my hair into a messy ponytail and consider myself at home.

As soon as I walked out of my bedroom, my stomach began to growl. I immediately made a detour to the kitchen instead of laying on the couch like I usually do.

My lunch break at work is only 30 minutes long and in that time I'm barely able to walk down the street a little and grab a Subway sandwich. That's all I've eaten all day. I opened my fridge to find it mostly barren. My cooking skills are sub-par at best. I usually just order in or pick something up on the way home. I found a carton of leftover Thai from last night. Good enough.

I pop it in the microwave and head for the couch. Reaching for the remote, I thought about what might be on tonight. I had just decided on a Criminal Minds rerun when I heard the microwave beep, announcing that my food was ready. I padded over to the kitchen from my place on the couch. While holding a pair of chopsticks in my mouth, I reach into the microwave and very quickly pick it up and set it down on the island behind me next to a book I've had sitting there forever.

"Hot, hot, hot!" I cry as I shake my hand.

I started to fan the take out container until it was a reasonable temperature that I could carry to the couch. I sped walked back to the couch with the container in my hands and the chopsticks back in my mouth. I landed on the couch with a nice *plop* noise. I started to eat the day-old Thai as the title sequence began.

The episode was pretty much like most of the others. Someone in Kansas was killing blonde-haired blue-eyed women because they reminded him of his mom and how they never got along. I am a sucker for these cop shows. Its almost always the same story behind the killings but I love them anyway.

The episode ended and I went back to channel surfing. I decided on the news. The top story was about how there is a group of robbers/murderers who are targeting local businesses. I was only half listening. I was too deep in thought.

I was snapped out of it by the loud bang behind me. After experiencing a miniature heart attack I turned around to see what the cause of the noise was. The book that has been sitting on my kitchen island was in the floor. I frowned with confusion.

It wasn't anywhere near the edge of the counter. Maybe I knocked it closer to the edge when I almost burned my hands?

I put down the almost empty carton and walked over to the kitchen. I crouched down and looked at the book suspiciously before picking it up. The kitchen was colder than normal. It's probably just because it's raining. I shook it off, set the book back on the counter and walked over to the thermostat and bumped up the heat.

I went back to the TV and found another show to watch. This time it was CSI: Miami.

I am so frustrated.

"The guy is sitting right in front of you! He doesn't have an alibi and he's sketchy as hell! He has a motive and an opportunity. Oh come on! It's not that hard people!" I shout at the TV.

I lean back in frustration.

My heart leaped into my throat when I heard a laugh from behind me. I went searching for the source only to find none.

Then I came to the realization that it must have been from outside. I went over to the balcony door and opened it. A rush of cool air greeted me as the doors slid open. The rain had calmed down quite a bit and I stepped onto the balcony. I looked around and saw a group of guys walking down the street. I dismissed the laugh as coming from one of them, and went back inside.

"I'm going crazy." I say while rubbing my temples.

I sighed as I noticed it getting dark outside. Another day, practically wasted. All I do is go to work, grab some coffee, and come back here to do nothing. My life has become a blur of boring non-events.

I threw away the empty Thai container and started to walk down the hallway toward my bedroom. I throw my clothes into the dirty clothes hamper and get in the shower.

Eventually I accomplish the near impossible task that is, washing my hair. My mind wanders while I stand under the scalding hot water. Maybe tomorrow i'll order something different at the cafe? Maybe I could rearrange my furniture again? I could order food from a place I haven't tried. I need to spice things up some.

I get out and wrap a towel around me. I head toward the mirror above the sink to brush my teeth when I see something that makes my heart race. The words written in the fogged up mirror. At first I thought I was seeing things but when I got closer I realized that this was here, this was real. The words, " _Don't go to the café tomorrow. Please, you will die if you do_ " were written in my mirror. I reach out my hand and touch the 'E' in 'die'. It smears beneath my fingers. It was written only moments ago. The letters were just starting to get foggy.

"What the hell?" I whisper with a concerned look on my face.

A wave of curiousness washed over me, mixed with small amounts of fear. A normal person under these circumstances would be terrified, ready to scream bloody murder, even. But I'm not exactly a normal person now am I?

The message didn't seem threatening, even with its terrifying subject. The words were a warning, not a threat.

I got dressed for bed in a t-shirt and comfortable shorts. My apartment had a completely new feel to it now. It didn't feel quite as empty as it's always felt. I tried and tried to go to sleep but I simply couldn't. I felt like I was being watched. I probably was and that wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

I reached for the locket around my neck, tracing the bow and arrow on the front, then flipping it over and feeling the letter B engraved in it. I fiddle with this locket every time i'm stressed or worried. It was all thats left of my home. But, I didn't dare open it.

Every time I open it, the wounds in my heart reopened a little.

I knew what was inside. I knew every single detail about the pictures placed in here. I closed my eyes and imagined the two happy photographs.

The one on the left is of my mom, smiling in her garden one summer. The yellow flowers behind her, the cloudless blue sky in the background, I knew it all by heart. I look just like her. We shared the same heart shaped face and petite nose. My dark brown hair and grey eyes are exact replicas of hers.

The photo on the right was of my dad and Luke. They look just alike, father and son. They shared the same sharp jaw, and high cheekbones. Their black hair and green eyes were practically identical.

The picture was of them before a big fishing trip. They were laughing as they smiled for the camera. My dad's arm was around Luke's shoulder in a proud stance, and in the background there is a boat on a trailer. That summer feels like it was forever ago, like it was almost a dream.

I drifted off thinking about those happy memories. I relived them in my unconscious mind. This was one of those few times where I actually had a good dream. I didn't dream the rest of the night.


	2. Resurfacing

I woke up today feeling different. Different because for the first time I am going to purposely stray from my routine.

I'm not those people that obsess over each detail throughout the day. I just like the comfort of knowing. This morning I was not comfortable at all.

I woke up on time, and started getting ready all with the thought that someone was watching me. I tried to be rational, that there was a chance that they weren't. I didn't even know this person, I cant be making assumptions.

My thoughts wandered while I showered. Who was haunting my apartment? Does this even count as a haunting? Is haunting the right word for whatever this is? Was it a guy or a girl? What was their name? Why are they still here? _Do they know what I am?_

When I got out of the shower I went over to the mirror to find it blank, just like it should be. I stared at the mirror and wiped away the condensation to see that my eyes have flashed white. I blinked and my eyes returned to their normal grey-blue.

I quickly got dressed in a stripped t-shirt, and jean shorts. I stared at my reflection in the full length mirror. Focusing more on my locket than anything else. I have never gone a day without wearing it. Not since I got it for my 16th birthday almost 4 years ago. The locket held both good and bad memories. My family was killed just a few weeks after my 16th birthday. I felt like I was honoring them in a way, by wearing the necklace every day. I was snapped out of my daze by realizing that my eyes had changed back to white. I quickly blinked the color away and rushed to grab my things and leave the apartment.

I spent the day in worry. What exactly would have killed me at the café? My mind raced with all of the possibilities. The hunters bursting in, silver blades blazing. Or maybe something was going to happen that showed people what I really was.

I was shocked back into reality when I realized I just tried to stack a book where there wasn't even a shelf. The book fell a good 5 feet before hitting the ground with a loud smack. I crouched down and picked it up and put it on the shelf where it belonged. I looked down at my watch to the relief that my day was over.

Yelling goodbye to Max, I started to make my way down the street. I hesitated in front of the cafe. I looked up at the sign and through the glass doors one last time. Worry began to gnaw at me from the inside. People were probably going to get hurt. But there was nothing I could do. Anything I could do to prevent anything from happening would draw attention. And besides, I don't even know what I would be stopping. Hesitantly, I kept walking. Heeding the warning I so subtly received. I took a few more glances over my shoulder. The rain had stopped but knowing Seattle it would only be a matter of days before it started up again. I made my way home enjoying the cool air that always occurs right after it rains. The smell of rain on asphalt still lingered in the air.

I made it into my apartment without seeing any of my not- so-nice neighbors.

When I was moving in they constantly knocked on my door or stopped me in the hallway and told me I was being too loud, and someone so young shouldn't be living alone, and that they will call the cops on me if they so much as hear the word drugs etc…

My usual schedule normally keeps me from seeing them too much. But nonetheless, I didn't see a soul in the whole building aside from the people who work there. I open the door to my apartment to find my home the same as it always was.

My apartment had become my safe place. With it's location being near small businesses and away from the hustle in the middle of the city, it was perfect for me. It had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, while more than I need, it never felt excessive. My parents had some money saved up when they passed, and finding a place where I felt safe had been the first thing that I put it towards.

I close the door behind me and throw my bag on the counter. I was dog tired. I make a right turn down the hall way that leads to my bedroom to get changed into something more comfortable. I usually get my caffeine boost from the café but seeing how that wasn't going to be happening today…

I dragged myself across the edge of the living room to the kitchen. It was cold again. I shivered as I poured myself some coffee from the pot I had had brewing. The cold temperature of the kitchen reminded me that I probably wasn't alone here. I worried yet again, just why I couldn't go to the café today. I walked over to my couch deep in thought. Well with all of this extra time I might as well watch everything that I haven't gotten the chance to see on my DVR. I had 4 unwatched recordings of my favorite show.

Usually when I get home from work I read or I draw. There is a window seat in my bedroom where I look out the window and sketch. I'm actually pretty good at it. I usually draw birds or trees or something from nature, but lately I've been drawing my necklace. Only sometimes do I actually watch TV. I'm pretty good at keeping my electricity bill down. My growling stomach reminded me that I was starving. I padded back over to the kitchen and popped some popcorn to soothe the hunger until I could get some actual food. The temperature of the kitchen had returned to just slightly below normal. I sipped on my coffee as I pressed play on the first episode.

I knew that if I wanted to eat something tonight i'd better get started cooking. I groaned as I looked at my kitchen. I just cleaned it yesterday. It would be a shame to mess it up now.

I just haven't been up for cooking lately. Everyday I find a new excuse not to cook. I searched for my phone in my bag while sitting on the couch, watching those recordings. I was already starting the second episode by the time I found my phone, on the counter, not in my purse.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me." I whisper in frustration. There was a small laugh coming from the kitchen a few seconds later. I practically jump out of my skin. My heart leaps into my throat. "Ok I realize that I am very amusing and such but if you could please do me a favor and not laugh," I half-yell to the air around me. "It's creepy as hell hearing someone laugh when you are home alone. Sort of…" I trail off at that last part. There was no reply so I reached for my phone and I dialed the familiar number of the nearest pizza place, and made my order.

There was a knock at my door 15 minutes later. I hopped up from the couch and practically ran to the door. It's safe to say that I was impatient when it comes to food. I opened the door to find a guy maybe a few years older than me, holding a pizza box and wearing a ridiculous uniform. The guy was kind of cute.

"Hello." I said awkwardly, reaching for the pizza. He hands it over and keeps a polite smile.

"It'll be $13.75." he says, leaning against my door frame. "Ok one second let me get my wallet." I reply while walking back to the kitchen counter to get my wallet. I grab the cash from my purse and quickly put it in his outstretched hand.

He handed me my receipt, wished me a good evening and left. I quickly shut the door and turn around to face what looks like an empty apartment.

I put the change into my wallet and looked over the space that I've called home for some time now. The apartment was quiet again. It was a lonely quiet. The kind of quiet that reminded you just how alone you really are. It left a heavy weight in your chest. The air conditioner and the traffic on the streets below provided a little sound. I sighed as I opened the pizza box.

I put a few slices on a plate and resume my place on the couch. I watched the last of the episodes and decided to turn on the news. It was pretty uneventful. There was something about how a local charity group raised over a million dollars for a village in Africa. Other things about the usual stuff, there was a car accident and no one was hurt, a drug safe house was found. What caught my attention was a few murders. All within the past few days. They were all dead women who were caught on security cameras, being murdered by their husbands. But what was weird is that the husbands still say that they didn't do it. Hearing that brought back horrible memories. The news showed a small clip of one of the murders. The husband's eyes flashed white. To a normal person that was just something odd. A camera flare, or reflective contacts maybe. But to someone from the supernatural world… Hell had broken loose.

My heart sank. It looks like I'm laying low again. If shapeshifter habits make the news hunters will follow. In a bigger city like Seattle the hunters will come even quicker. I can't just up and leave again. I've made a life here, I can't just uproot and move across the country again. It was hard enough doing it the first time. I don't think I have it in me to do it again. My thoughts were cut off by the sound of thunder outside my window. I got up and opened the curtains that hid the balcony from view. A storm had started up again. Rain was pelting at the glass. There was a loud crack sound and a strike of lightning appeared off in the distance. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window, my eyes glowed white. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt them return to their normal color. I looked down onto the streets. Up and down the streets there was no one. Everyone had gone inside to take shelter from the rain. All except one man. I couldn't quite see his face, he was looking down. I stared at him while wondering why he hasn't gone inside. All those questions came to a screeching halt as the man lifted his head, looking straight at me with a small smirk. I recognized him immediately, it was my brother, Luke.

 **A/N:** ** _Whaaaaattt?_** **Sorry for the cliff hanger here. I've been rewriting basically all of the early chapters so if some things sound a little different that would be why. As of April 11th, 2018 this chapter has been updated. Once again, the face claim for Brayden is Margaret Qualley, and *drum roll* the face claim for her not dead brother is... Steven Kelly.**


	3. Revelations

My breathing became labored. I was hyperventilating and I clutched the curtains in my hand so hard that my knuckles turned white. I was frozen. I couldn't move. Our eyes locked from a good distance away for only a moment, but I knew. It was Luke. There was another strike of lightning somewhere and I could see his eyes change to white. I felt my own change colors. His eyes tore away from mine as he started to walk back down the street. I blinked and my eyes returned to their grey shade that they naturally are. I didn't even think about what I did next.

Before I knew what I was doing I was out my door, racing down the stairs. I barely had the mind to grab my keys from the kitchen counter. I ran outside into the rain. It had to be 10pm at least. The only lights on the street were from the street lamps. I ran in the direction I had seen Luke go. "Luke! Luke!" I shout into nothingness. There was another flash of lightning and a crack of thunder. Yet again, my eyes changed color. I quickly blinked them away. The rain was coming down hard. I couldn't see anything. I was soaked. I could feel my shirt start to stick to my back and my hair was drenched. Luke was gone. I looked around frantically. He was nowhere to be seen.

I know it was him. It had to be. Luke was always good at getting away undetected. He's only messed up once, and that was the time the hunters followed him. I was panting as I turned my head frantically, looking in every direction for my brother. He was gone.

I decided that there was no point looking for him now. My shoulders slump in defeat. It's pouring down rain and it's useless anyways. I shiver and rub my arms in the cold. even though it was a summer storm, the wind and the cool night air made it feel colder. The rain was coming down in sheets and I was freezing. I ran the short way home and up the stairs to my apartment.

My hands were shaking as I tried to unlock the door. I was a mess. I had streaks of makeup running down my face, my t-shirt was soaked to the point that it was sticking to me. I can't even describe how wrong wet leggings feel. When I crossed the living room to my kitchen I was trembling. And not just from the cold. I had just seen my _dead_ brother. After almost 4 years of thinking he was gone. I was in shock. I tried to set my keys on the kitchen counter but I was shaking too much, they fell onto the hardwood. My legs finally collapsed and I fell onto the floor. That's when the tears came. I leaned against the cabinets while sitting on my kitchen floor. Tears ran down my face. My hands trembled and I started to breath rapidly. I began sobbing uncontrollably. Everything I had seen flashed before my eyes. I could see Luke's black hair, soaked in the rain. His strong jawline, now covered with a light scruff. His eyes transformed into that shade of white as the lightning struck in the distance. I could see the emotionless look on his face. How long has he been in Seattle? How long has he known where I was? Where has he been for four years? If he had survived the hunters, was there a chance that our parents had too?

I focused on controlling my breathing. I knew that if I continued like this I might pass out. My hands gripped the hard floor. I focused on the cool feeling of the hardwood below my hands and the cold water running down my shoulders from my hair. I felt the water run down my face, leaving a trail. The little things helped distract my attention. I focused on the sounds of my breathing. In, out, in, out.

In… out…

I continued with that for what felt like hours, but what was more likely a few minutes. Slowly, I stood up from the kitchen floor. I used the counter to steady myself. I was still really wet. I walked to my bathroom at a zombie-like pace. I stripped out of the wet clothes that were sticking to my skin and hung them to dry on a coat rack. I got into the hot shower and washed away the dried tears on my face. I stayed in there until I washed away the rain and the cold. Really I stayed in there until the bathroom became so steamy it became difficult to breath.

I wrapped a towel around my body as I stepped out of the shower. I crossed the bathroom over to the mirror above the sink.

Written in the steam was a simple question mark. A sad smile appeared on my face. I wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at my reflection. My eyes were red and a little puffy. I sighed as I turned around and opened the bathroom door.

I crossed my bedroom to my closet. I pulled out an old worn out t-shirt and a pair of leggings. I quickly got dressed and walked over to the window seat near my bed. I sat down and looked out the window onto the Seattle skyline. The lights of the city were shining in the dark. When I first moved here I would sit here and stare at the night for hours. Back home in Maine there wasn't much to look at. We lived in a small village and our cabin was pretty far from town. You couldn't see anything but the moon and the stars, with the slight outline of the trees.

I felt a cold breeze come from my room. I turned to look but there was no one there. At least it looked like there wasn't. "I'll explain that tomorrow. I am too tired to open that can of worms right now," I sighed. "You probably think I'm crazy. Hell, maybe I am. What I've been through is enough to drive a person mad. Here I am, talking to what might be no one. Maybe I finally cracked and imagined the whole thing. Maybe you aren't even real." I speak softly to the seemingly empty room. I was answered with a book falling off of my bookshelf. "Ok so I guess that answers that." I sighed and got up from the comfortable window seat. I walked over to where the book had landed. Crouching down, I picked up the book off of the hardwood and smiled. I placed it back on the shelf where it originally was.

My bookshelf was pretty full. I'm probably going to end up putting some of them on the bookshelf in the spare bedroom. That bookshelf has a lot of DVD's and a few books. I crossed the room and crawled into bed. I plugged in my phone and went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up stressed out of my mind. What happened at the café? I got up and got dressed. After grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I walked through my kitchen and grabbed a bagel and a thermos full of coffee. I held the bagel in my mouth as I put my phone and my wallet in my bag. I quickly picked up my bag, put it on my shoulder and went to the door. I turned the key to lock the door once I was outside and in the hallway.

The air outside was it's usual cold, depressing, rainy feeling. It had rained all of last night and it was still sprinkling. I began my walk to work while drinking my coffee and eating the bagel. I finished off the coffee relatively fast and quickly put away the thermos in my bag.

I was almost to the café when I realized something was wrong. Something was very wrong. I could see a police car, flashing blue and red lights on top. I could see the yellow crime scene tape. I ran the rest of the way towards the café.

"What happened?!" I question the police officer who was writing something down on a notepad.

"That's what we are trying to figure out Miss. All we know now is that there are 13 people dead. All shot." He answered with a solemn expression.

"Do you have a list of names?" I ask.

"Just one second." He replies. The officer walked over to the car and pulled out a clipboard. He walked back over and handed it to me. There were 11 names written on the paper in messy letters. I skimmed my way down the list. I stopped almost to the bottom as I read a familiar name. _Charles Knight, Owner._

"Thank you." I say in a small voice to the police man.

I handed him back the clipboard and walked away. I turned in the direction I was coming from. I could feel the tears trying to make their way to the surface. I walked a good 30 feet when I realized that there was no way I could go to work today. Not like this. I pulled my phone out of my bag and called Max.

"Hello?" a grumpy voice answered.

"Hey Max, it's Brayden. I'm going to need to take a sick day." I say, choking back tears.

"Archer…You don't _get_ sick. You have been working for me for years and not once have you taken a sick day." He answers a little confused.

"Yeah well, there's a first time for everything." I reply. I had to hold my breath to hold back a sob.

Not long after, I was back home. Max reluctantly gave me the day off. I was now sitting in my living room crying. Those poor kids. They already lost their mother and now their father too? No one deserves that, at any age.

I was so full of emotions that I couldn't bother to sit still another second.

I got up off of my couch and began pacing the space between my couch and the kitchen. I put both of my hands on top of my head, trying to control my breathing. _What happened?_ Did this have anything to do with the prank calls? Why would someone rob a place, and shoot everyone there? That would just make noise and attract attention. Then the realization hit me. If it had been in there like I usually am, I would have been shot. I wouldn't have died because I'm a Shapeshifter, but the ghost doesn't know that.

But it's still a very good thing I didn't go either. If I had been shot and managed to play dead until they left, how would I explain to the cops how I had a took a bullet and yet I didn't have a scratch on me? I stopped pacing the second the thought came to me.

"Thank you," I say with a small voice. "I would have died, one way or another." I say to the seemingly empty apartment. A cold breeze swept over me and I knew that whoever they were, they were here and hopefully heard me. I wiped the tears from under my eyes. Why would they make so much noise? Why would they risk getting caught just so that they wouldn't have any witnesses left? Unless they were sure that they were going to get away with it…

I managed to pull myself together enough to walk to my room and change into comfier clothes. I am going to take advantage of this sick day. I walked down the hall, passing the living room, and into the other hallway to the extra bedroom that I converted into an office/storage space.

This room was slightly smaller than mine, but still quite roomy. I had a desk on the wall with the door leading to the hallway. There were a couple bookshelves lining the walls. The ensuite bathroom to this room was practically untouched since I moved here. I bet i've entered that bathroom all of 10 times.

I got on my computer and began searching. I looked at all of the reports for what happened at the café and the other businesses. This has happened at two other places. I look to see if there were any survivors at any of the scenes. The first business was a bakery on the other side of town. "NO SURVIVORS." Read the article. The second was a small deli. It had one survivor. A man that was sitting towards the back of the room. The only reason that he even survived was that he has a rare condition called Situs Inversus, meaning all of his major organs are mirrored. The shot would have surely killed him if not for that. He's at the hospital in stable condition. I was so tempted to give in and look into what happened to Charlie. But I didn't think I could bare it. But the possibility of there being more information, it tilted the scale. Before I changed my mind, my fingers tapped along the keyboard. But my heart sank at the articles that came up.

I wish I hadn't looked. It had pictures of the blood on the floor of the café. Innocent blood. But I kept reading. The words 'no survivors' were ringing in my head. How are Parker and Anna going to live without both of their parents?


	4. Reversed

DEAN POV:

"So far there have been three murders, all women, all killed by their husbands who swear up and down that they didn't do it." Sam says from the passenger seat.

"What're we thinking? Shapeshifter?" I reply, never taking my eyes off of the road.

"Looks like it." He answers. We were almost to Seattle. We had been in Oregon after a vamp nest a few days ago. Bobby called us saying to get our asses up to Seattle pronto because Shapeshifter MO had been hitting the news. Shapeshifters have always been one of my least favorite monsters. They're tricky little bastards. Ganking them is a proud moment in my book.

I pulled into the parking lot of a motel outside of town. Sammy and I decided to rest up and figure out just how many shifters we're up against before going in blind. I opened my car door and Sam did the same. The familiar squeak of the Impalas doors was present through the pounding of the rain on the pavement. The rain was coming down pretty heavily. We ran to the main office up ahead.

"One room, please." Sam said to the old woman at the desk. She gave us a look, one that we have gotten several times before. I immediately roll my eyes. What a bitch.

"We're brothers." I say the woman. Just to get her to stop looking at us like that. She immediately smiled and gave us an apologetic look.

Sam handed the woman a fake credit card and it's matching I.D. She seemed to believe it.

"Room 23. It's to your right as soon as you are out the door." She said with a smile.

"Thanks." Sam replied. The woman handed Sam the key to our room and we took off to our room.

Sam pulled out his laptop and set it on the small table on the other side of the room.

"Beer?" I asked him, holding up a 6-pack.

"Sure." He replied without looking. He started to type something in.

"Get this. There have also been a few robberies in the past couple weeks. All small businesses. The robber shot everyone at all three of the scenes. Looks like only one man survived." Sam said with his brows furrowed. I popped the top of a can of beer.

"He should play the lottery with that kind of luck." I say then take a swig. I set a new can next to Sam's laptop.

"Thanks." He mutters. I sit down on the end of one of the beds.

"Any connections between the murders and the robberies?" I ask.

"Uh. Yeah, I'd say so. The one man that survived? Says that the robber's eyes flashed silvery white." Sam replied.

"Well that's interesting. Why don't we go pay a little visit to this guy?"

The next day we walked into the Seattle Hospital wearing monkey suits with fake FBI badges in tow. We walked over to the nurse's station.

"Excuse me miss? We are looking for a Mr. Andy Vann. He was the survivor of one of those robberies." I ask with a smile. This nurse was definitely easy on the eyes. She had medium length blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Who's asking? Only family is allowed visits at this time." She says without any emotion. Sam and I reach into our coat pockets and pulled out our fake Fed badges.

"Agents Brooks and McKenzie, FBI." Sam answers.

The nurse raises a brow but eventually she says, "Right this way agents."

She leads us down a maze of hallways that seem to take forever to navigate. The hospital was unusually cold but the nurse didn't seem to mind. She walked swiftly down each corridor. Eventually we got to a door with the name Andy Vann written on a white board. To the left of the door was a small sign reading room 307.

"Here he is. I just have to warn you agents, before you go in there. When Mr. Vann woke up this morning from his surgeries he was delirious, he was raving on and on about monsters with glowing eyes." She says with a small laugh. "When he first came in he was in shock, he just stared off into space and talked nonsense to himself occasionally. We could barely get him to eat anything and he had to be drugged so that he could sleep." The nurse continued. Sammy and I just nodded in understanding.

"We understand." I say to her and she walks away, leaving Sam and I alone at the door.

I took a deep breath and turned the door handle. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Sammy followed a step behind.

"Mr. Vann?" I asked.

"Yes?" a voice responds.

"Hi sir. We are from the FBI and we'd like to ask you some questions about what happened." Sam told the man. He was a small man about 5'6". He looked like hell. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His skin looked pale. He looked frail and weak.

"I've already talked to the police." He answers, annoyed.

"We are different sir." I reply, taking a seat in one of the chairs across the room. A shaky laugh escaped him.

"Oh yeah, how so?" he counters, clearly not convinced.

"We'll believe you." I say, making direct eye contact. Andy's gaze went from Sammy to I, back and forth. He contemplated for a moment before he finally answered.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"I was sitting almost in the back of the shop. I had been there maybe 20 minutes when I heard some yelling coming from up front. When I looked up I saw a man in his mid to late twenties pointing a gun at the cashier. The man had brown hair and dark, almost black eyes." Andy explained. His face betrayed every emotion he as recalling. "The cashier eventually gave up trying to talk him out of doing this and he just gave him all of the cash from the register. Once the man had his money he turned around like he was just going to leave. But not even a second later he whipped around and shot the cashier right between the eyes." Andy said. He clutched the cross necklace he wore around his neck.

"The nurse said you mentioned glowing eyes?" Sam asked him.

"Easy there Gigantor, I'm getting there." Andy says with sass. Sam holds his hands up in a defensive stance.

"Like I was _saying_ , he turned around and shot the cashier. Then for just a split second his eyes glowed white. He turned around and started shooting the other customers and then finally he shot me. While I was on the floor of the café bleeding out I looked up at him. He was still like 20 feet away but I could see it clearly. His eyes returned to that dark onyx color they were before. Then… I don't know what happened whether I was seeing things or what… But I swear on my mother's grave, I saw him turn into another person. He stepped outside the door but I could still see him through the window. One second he has brown hair, the next its black and he is much taller. His dark brown eyes turned into this bright green. I've never seen anything like that in my life, and I hope to God above I never will again." Andy finishes.

"Agent Brooks, can I speak with you outside for a moment?" I ask Sam. Sam nods and mutters an _excuse us_ to Andy.

"We can't let this guy think he's crazy." I say once the door was shut. "The guys got no family, no friends to speak of. There would be no one there to tell him that he's not crazy. This will eat him alive for years." I finish.

"I mean, are you sure Dean? We shouldn't go around telling people the truth like this." Sam argues. I know Sam has a point, but I couldn't live with myself if I let this guy convince himself he's nuts.

"Besides, who is he going to tell? He's got no one." I exhale. "Let's say we don't tell him? Let's say this drives him so crazy he starts looking into it? What happens when he figures it out for himself? He gathers all the evidence he has and makes a run for the news station." I yell in a whisper. Sam takes a deep breath and looks around, making sure no one is listening in.

"Okay, it's settled then. We tell him." Sam says finally. I turned the doorknob and prepared to change this guys entire world.

"Mr. Vann, we are about to tell you the absolute truth. This is information you cannot repeat to anyone, understand?" I ask. Andy nods his head in understanding. A determined look in his eyes.

"Sir, you weren't seeing things. What you saw was a shapeshifter. We live in a world where monsters are real. Most of them stay hidden from the human world —not wanting to be found out —But others, frankly don't give a rat's ass. They are looking for the rush that comes with almost being caught. If one does get caught, they always manage to get out. A lot has been dumped on you these past few days, we understand that. But we want you to know what's really out there." I explain.

"You're not really FBI are you guys?" Andy accuses. "No. We aren't. We're hunters. It's our job to kill those sons of bitches." I answer.

We left shortly after that. Sam and I were almost to the Impala when he piped up, "So it's definitely a shapeshifter. The real question is: How many are there? Could it just be one doing all of this?" Sam asks me.

"I don't think so. I think one of them was killing the wives and pretending to be the husbands and another shifter is robbing the places and making off with a lot of cash. I mean, why would one guy want to do both?" I answer. We both climb into the car.

"How the hell are we going to track them down?" Sam asks me with a worried look on his face.

"I don't know." I surrender.

A while later we were back in the motel room trying to think of a way to track the shifters down.

"Ok what we need to do is find where their safe house is. Where are they staying while they're here?" Sam offers.

"Pull up a map of the city." I say. Sam started to type in something to his laptop. "Got it." He says after a moment. "Ok, this is where the bakery was robbed." I say and point to the bakery on the screen. Sam dropped a virtual red pin on the site. "Over here was that sandwich shop where Andy got shot." Sam adds. He adds another red pin, this time on the sandwich place. "What was the other place called? The coffee shop." I ask. "Uh Knight something." Sam fills in. He drops another red pin where it was.

"Ok what about where those wives were killed?" Sam asks. I pull out a file and read off the addresses. Sam dropped a few more pins down.

"I'm not seeing anything. They all are in random places." I say with a frustrated tone.

"There isn't really a center or anything." Sam says with a defeated voice.

"We'll figure out something." I say.

An hour or so later Sam and I were at one of the murder scenes. This was the home of one of the murdered wives. We were looking around searching or anything that could lead us to where the shifter went. So far we have nothing.

"The police probably cleaned up anything that could actually help us." I said to Sam on the other side of the room.

"They are just doing their job." Sam defends.

"No they are doing our job only they don't know it, so they suck at it." I counter. Sam just laughs.

"True. True." Sam responds.

"These guys are smart. They left no witnesses, or at least tried. But anyways, they always make a mistake. If they don't, that means they haven't yet. They always make a mistake." I explain.

A few hours later we gave up looking at that house. It was already wiped clean. We had checked every surface in that home for anything that we could use to help us. That murder took place almost a week ago. There would be nothing left after the cops came through. We were back in the car driving to the motel.

"Something else is going to happen, I know it. Hopefully this time around they will screw something up. Even something small we could use." Sam says.

"We can't just expect them to drop their wallets, these guys know what they are doing. They have probably done this before." I say.

We pulled into the parking lot of the motel.

"We should look into cases that are similar to this. It might be the same shifters." I say.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Let's head out to those other houses tomorrow. See if the cops actually left anything useful." Sam offered.


	5. Rearranged

Walking down the street, I tried not to look at what remains of the café. The place used to have so much life in it. Now all that remains is the reminder of death, of tragedy. It's been exactly a week since it happened. I looked up at the sky with a look of concern. It was going to start raining again. The idea makes me smile. I really love the rain. As much as I love walking in the rain, I try to avoid it if possible. I sped walked the rest of the way to work.

The past week has been pretty uneventful. There hasn't been anything written in my mirror and I haven't been hearing voices. It almost like I'm actually living alone. Which of course I am not. There's still the occasional cold breeze, or the feeling like I'm not alone. It's not creepy anymore, I kind of welcome the company.

"Hey Max!" I say as I enter the bookstore. I hear a distant grunt from the back of the store. Meaning: Max acknowledges that I am here, but doesn't feel like saying anything. I set my bag down behind the counter and look around the store. Not much has changed in the past three years of me working here. Books have come and gone. Some old shelves have been replaced. The place is kind of small, and having the shelves in aisles in the middle of the room didn't help make it look any bigger. The walls of the place were pretty much bare. They were a dark grey color that went well with the black shelves. An idea came over me and I smiled.

"Max, it's time for a change." I half shout to the store. "What kind of change? Things are just fine how they are." He answers, already in a bad mood. "I'm going to rearrange the shelves. The way they are now makes the place seem smaller than it is, and makes it kind of crowded." I argue. "Fine. But I'm not helping you do something I don't even want to do in the first place." He says, walking into the main part of the store. "Ok, I can do it by myself. But I don't want you in the way, so leave." I tell him with a smile on my face. He smirks at my statement. "I'll be back in 3 hours." He says as he opens the front door to leave. "I can have it done in 2." I say. "I'll still be back in 3 hours." He finished and walks out.

Walking over to the front door, I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. I flipped the sign on the door to closed so I wouldn't be interrupted. I turned around and looked at the store. What have I gotten myself into?

About an hour into moving the bookcases I heard the ringing of the bell on top of the front door. Confused, I looked to the front of the store to see who came in. It was that girl from last week with the blonde and pink hair. "Oh sorry! Are you closed? I can come back later if you want. I was just... I was…" She stammered. Her brown eyes searching for something to say. I smiled at her. "Come on in. I was just moving around some shelves. Max keeps the book cases in aisles and it takes up most of the floor space and makes it feel small in here." I inform her. "Max?" she asks. "My boss. The grumpy short guy? That's him." I tell her. "Ahh. Do you need some help?" She asks after seeing me struggle to move one of the heavier bookcases. "Oh god, yes!" I plead. "I'm Skylar." She says while helping me push the case. "I'm Brayden." I respond.

By the time Max walked in we had pushed all of the shelves against the walls except for two. He was slightly wet from the light rain outside. We put them in the middle of the room arranged in a way to were the store still looked good. I had found the spare broom and dust pan in the back and we were both sweeping up the dust that had made its way underneath the bookcases over the years. We were laughing and joking as we worked. I liked Skylar, she reminded me of myself before I came here. Before everything.

"Wow. This actually looks pretty good girls." Max says from the doorway. "Thanks." We both say at the same time. That got a laugh from Max. Something that doesn't happen too often. "I'm Skylar. I just kind of walked in here and started helping." She says with a laugh. "Fine by me." He says with a shrug.

Skylar stuck around for a few more hours and helped with some other stuff. She ended up leaving with a few books in tow. "I like her. She's got spunk." Max says beside me. "Yeah, me too." I respond.

The store did look much better. It was easier to see what shelf was what genre and saved the customers a lot of time searching for the right shelf. Only problem is, I had no idea where anything is. It only takes a moment to find the right one, but that's a moment longer than the way it used to be. I'm not complaining. The place looks a lot better and somehow we are getting more customers. I don't know what one has to do with the other but, I'm still a little frustrated.

After work I decided that I need to go grocery shopping. My fridge at home was in dire need of restocking. I was down to a couple eggs, about a cup of milk, and some orange juice. The same could be said about the pantry.

I walked into the small grocery store and was greeted by a cold rush of air. This grocery store was just 2 blocks from my apartment and without a car, this was as far as I could go. I was careful to avoid looking at any of the security cameras, knowing that my eyes would be glowing in the footage. The first time I came here three years ago, I wore sunglasses until I knew where all of the cameras where.

I was so paranoid when I first got here. Every noise in the night meant that the hunters had found me. I remember hearing footsteps down the hall one night and it took everything in me not to have a panic attack. But it was just my neighbors coming in late.

I pulled down the baseball cap that I had put on while I was walking here. The rain had temporarily stopped but it was bound to start up again.

I walked down a few isles grabbing a few things and placing them in the small carry basket. I was careful not to grab too much stuff considering I would have to carry it all. Most shapeshifters are super strong but I didn't get that trait.

It tends to run in a few of the males in our family. But it's rare. My dad got that gene. He was the first in 120 years to have it. But he rarely used it. He didn't have any reason to. Luke was always pissed that he didn't get that gene. But there was almost no way that he would. The odds were strongly stacked against him.

I placed a can of coffee grounds in the basket and I began to think about the Knight kids. They must be devastated. Charlie loved his kids more than anything.

Soon I was done browsing the shelves and I walked to the checkout area. This particular grocery store was small and was never that busy. I walked over to one of the three cashiers and began placing everything on the belt.

"Find everything ok?" the old woman asked me. "Fine. Thank you." I reply. I was careful to block my eyes with the bill of the cap from the camera angled down at me. "It'll be $64.08" She tells me with a smile. I hand her a few bills and she counts the change back to me. "Thank you." I say as I turn to leave with the 4 plastic bags.

Eventually I made it home with the groceries. It only took half an hour to get back. The rain had started up again and I had walked very quickly home. I set the bags down on the kitchen counter, careful not to let anything fall out. A cold breeze swept through the room, letting me know that I wasn't alone anymore. I lifted my head up and looked around the room, as if something could possibly be different this time. As if I could actually see them.

Realizing that I was staring off at nothing I quickly snapped myself out of it and continued to put the groceries away. My thoughts drifted to Luke. He was in Seattle, somewhere. Why would he run away like that? Did he kill all of those people? Did he kill Charlie?

I finished putting all of the groceries away. The fridge didn't look as sad as it once was and the pantry looked decently full. I will probably have to go again soon.

I sat down on my couch and thought about everything that I know about Luke being here.

1\. He clearly doesn't want to talk to me.

2\. There have been a lot of murders lately.

3\. He showed up around the same time they started.

4\. That can't be a coincidence.

5\. He might not be doing it alone.

6\. He knows where I live.

7\. He probably knows where I work.

8\. He most likely knew that I went to the café every day.

9\. I have no idea what he wants.

I was pacing my living room again. I took off the hat and shook my hair loose. This was driving me crazy. Why the hell is he here? I was sad, confused, and pissed off all at once. To think that only a few years ago my life was normal. Ok maybe normal isn't the right word, but it sure as hell was less complicated.

I turn on the news to see if anything else has happened. I've been avoiding watching it because I'm afraid it would say something about Charlie. "The police are baffled," was the first thing that I heard. The woman explained how there have been more and more murders in the past few days. Another business, this time it was another coffee shop, and four more single murders. It was the usual wives killed by their husbands. The coffee shop was hit only 10 minutes before one of the wives were killed. He's definitely not doing this alone.

I never understood why Luke was like this. None of us understood. He was so different when we were kids. But when we got older, something changed. He was different. He was colder, meaner, he wasn't the same Luke anymore. He started to shut me out and ignore me. Later he started to yell, and once he even tried to hit me. There was no going back from there. I knew from then on that my brother was gone, the brother that I had once loved was never coming back. He had died long before our parents.

 **A/N: Deep and dark ending there. What are your thoughts on Luke? I should be getting more into detail about his character in a while. How do you like Skylar? The next chapter will be HUGE! Very important and slightly longer than usual. In the next chapter we meet the ghost.**


	6. Returned

**A/N: BIGGGG chapter here guys. Not really in size but more of importance.**

I think Max is starting to admit he likes the way the shelves are now. But he's having the same frustration I am with not being able to find anything. Today was a really busy day. There was never less than 5 people in here at a time. Max and I have no idea what brought it on. The entire time I've worked here it had never been this busy. Max was constantly at the register and I was walking back and forth helping people find things and answering questions.

"Did Skylar come in today? I didn't see her." I asked. Max just shook his head. I shrugged. With all the chaos of the say I hardly noticed she didn't drop by.

When the day finally ended Max and I were totally exhausted. "What do you think sold today?" I ask Max across the room.

"Books?" He answers with big eyes. That made me laugh. I walked a few feet and collapse on the stool near the counter. This was the first time I got to sit down all day except for my lunch break. I sighed out of exhaustion.

"I think I'm going to head out." I yell at Max, who is in the back.

"Okay. Be careful out there. I hear theres going to be a storm tonight." He yells back.

"You know I will." I tease.

I had planned to run to the dry cleaners after work today. But if there was going to be a storm id better be safe than sorry and stay inside. Whenever there is lightning, it tends to mess with my eyes. Any flash of light going over them makes them turn white.

I began to lightly jog home, the rain was pelting my skin and leaving me soaked. By the time I got home I was practically drenched. I'm starting to wonder if it will ever stop raining.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and pushed the door open. Everything was exactly the way I left it this morning. I sigh as I close the door behind me with my foot. Today was completely exhausting. I walk over to the kitchen and set my bag down on the island in the middle.

" _I need caffeine._ " I mutter to myself. I walk around the island and towards the coffee pot on the counter.

Putting in the filter, coffee grounds, and water, I decide to change out of these slightly wet clothes. Thunder boomed outside, loud enough to send a vibration through the place. I pressed the buttons necessary for it to start making coffee.

I walked down the hallway and made a left into my bedroom to change out of these clothes. I put on a pair of leggings and a long sleeve shirt that was easily two sizes too big. I hung up my damp clothes to dry as I walked out of the room.

By the time I walked back into the kitchen the coffee pot was beeping to tell me that the coffee was ready.

"Thank God!" I say to the seemingly empty kitchen. I pulled out a coffee cup from the cabinet and filled it with coffee, creamer, and a little sugar. I sighed as I set the coffee down on the far side of the island.

It's been a while since I've read a book. But after a day like today, I need to relax a little. I went into the room across the hall from my bedroom and grabbed a book from the overflowing bookshelf. I have always been into reading. It's probably time that I sell a bunch of them to Max to put in the store. It would make me some extra cash too.

I sat down at the kitchen island with the cup of coffee and the book in hand. I turned to the last page that I was at. I haven't even touched it in about two weeks. That's a record for me. I read five different books on my way from Maine to Seattle.

There was another crack of thunder and a flash of lightning somewhere in the distance. The storm was about to start. Wind whipped outside the windows. Rain pelted against the glass.

This wasn't too out of the ordinary for Seattle, we get rain here more often than we get sunlight. I set the book down as I felt my eyes change color. It always happens right after a nearby strike of lightning. Only a moment after my eyes returned to their normal grey color, another flash of lightning struck. This time hitting the fire escape just outside my kitchen window.

I closed my eyes as I felt them change. I wasn't prepared to see what I did when I opened them. There was a guy, leaning against the sink for support. I was in shock. I was staring at him completely speechless. He raised up, no longer holding onto the sink. My eyes followed him upward. He was staring right into my eyes. I stood up from my seat at the kitchen island. It squeaked on the hardwood floors. I took a step back from the island, it being the only thing in between him and I. My gaze never moving from his.

"Can you see me?" he asks me, his brows furrowed.

"Yes." I answer quietly. "What the hell?" I ask, barely a whisper. I take another step backwards.

"Don't freak out!" he says, taking a defensive stance with his hands up.

"Don't freak out? Why shouldn't I be freaking out right now? One second I'm alone in my kitchen, the next I'm not. Care to explain that for me?" I tell him rather loudly.

"Ok yeah maybe freaking out is the proper reaction to this." The guy explains.

"Ya think?!" I say sarcastically.

"Ok maybe we started out on the wrong foot. I'm Noah, I lived here before you." he informs.

"Why don't we sit down." I offer, pointing to the living room. We sit down in the living room and its silent for a moment. He seems harmless enough, maybe even slightly awkward. Even still, his presence makes me hesitant.

"Ok, I have a few questions." I state.

"Fair enough. I've got a few myself." he says immediately. In an instant I tensed. What could he possibly have questions about? I took a deep breath and asked the most pressing question on my mind.

"So it was you that wrote on the mirror?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"No that was the other ghost in your apartment." he says sarcastically. I just raise my eyebrows, unamused.

He clears his throat and continues, "Sorry, not funny. I um… yeah that was me." he rambles.

"You sure were subtle." I say with a laugh. He ran his fingers through his blond hair.

"Yeah sorry about that. That was pretty much the only way that I could tell you. I haven't been able to move anything, be seen, or heard, for 4 years now I guess. But then a few weeks ago you could hear me sometimes. I could move things on occasion. I have no idea what's changed. The steam on the mirror was light enough for me to write on. It was a lot easier than picking up a pencil." he shrugged. "Im still a little confused myself. Why after all of these years do things change?" he ponders.

"But why can I see you now?" I ask, trying to get to the more pressing matters.  
"I really don't know. One second I'm just standing there, leaning against the sink, then I get this really weird feeling, then I look at you, and you can see me." he continues. "I thought you could see me yesterday, when you were unpacking groceries. You were staring right at me for like 30 seconds. I was waving a hand in front of your face and trying to talk to you, but I guess you couldn't actually see me. Wishful thinking I guess." Noah explains.

Without thinking, I grab the necklace around my neck. I trace over the bow and arrow on the front with my thumb. Noah looked down at me messing with it.

"Why do you do that?" he asks with a smile. He points to my necklace.

"Do what?" I ask. I didn't even realize that I was doing it.

"When you're thinking, or nervous, you trace over the symbols on your necklace." he explains. The realization that he has been watching near everything I've done since I moved to Seattle hits me. I clear my throat, slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh I uh, I guess I never noticed I did that. I got it as a birthday gift when I was 16. I've always worn it since then." I answer, telling only part of the story.

"My brother, Luke, he got a ring when he turned 16. Its a simple gold band with the same bow and arrow etched on the front. But on the inside there is an L engraved in it. Our last name is Archer so the bow and arrow symbol is incorporated into every family heirloom." I explain. I smile as I remembered that day. "It's a family tradition to get a piece of jewelry with a bow and arrow for your 16th birthday." I continue.

"That's awesome. My family never was really sentimental at all. To be honest, our parents hardly ever paid any attention to us. It was all about the Carter family reputation and how we looked to other people." Noah explains, a bitter-sweet smile on his face.

"How did you know? About the cafe?" I ask him after a moment. After all, that was the most pressing topic. I sat up straighter. I looked at him expectantly. Noah sighed loudly. He leans back into the couch.

"I don't know. I honestly have no idea. I just did. I knew something was going to happen at the cafe for about a month now I think. Then all of a sudden last week the day before it happened, I just knew. I knew that it was going to happen the next day. I couldn't just ignore that. I couldn't just let you die. I don't know how I knew, really. But I'm glad that I did." Noah finishes.

"Did you know that it was going to be robbed? Or did you just know that _something_ was going to happen?" I ask urgently. This all seemed too crazy.

"I knew that people were going to die. A lot of people. I didn't know who or how, but I knew you went there everyday and I couldn't just not say anything." he admitted.

"Thank you. Really, thank you. I would probably be dead right now if you didn't warn me. So I owe you." I say the last part with a laugh. A small smile forms on his face, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You're welcome. You know, I might have to cash in that favor a little sooner than you thought. I'm kind of…dead. To put it frankly. So I can't exactly just call up a realtor. So I was wondering if it would be ok if I stayed here, at least for while?" He asks.

I hesitate. I barely knew this guy. Sure he kind of saved my life, but how much could I really trust him? It was dangerous enough letting someone get close to me, let alone actually live with me. But I knew I couldn't turn him down.

"Yeah, sure I get it. Besides, I really do owe you." I answer him after a moment.

I got up to go get my coffee before it got cold. It was barely warm by now. I sigh as I put it in the microwave. "I hope it doesn't seem like I'm prying, but I do have one more question." he says, standing up from the couch and walking into the kitchen. Noah leaned against the kitchen island. I paused.

"Sure, what is it?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You are young, full of life, why don't you ever go out? You are like, _always_ home." he asks with his brows furrowed and a teasing smile on his face.

"What can I say? I'm an introverted person. Besides, you don't make a lot of friends working in a bookstore." I say with a shrug.

"Fair enough." he surrenders. There wasn't a snowballs chance in hell I would tell him the real reason this soon.

Noah and I have been talking for a few hours now and we've come to the conclusion that when the lightning struck the fire escape, it just have somehow carried the electricity to the metal sink. The same sink that he was leaning on when it struck. So for some reason, now he can be seen and heard. It had gotten dark outside a while ago.

"You know that stuff that every paranormal expert tells? Saying that ghosts siphon energy from the people and things around them? And that's what makes the lights flicker and people weak in haunted areas? Maybe its kind of like that. But when I got electrocuted, all of that energy I syphoned just activated something? Something that lets me be seen." he proposes.

"That makes sense. Like you would siphon the energy from the lights or something, and then you would have the energy to move something or be kind of heard. If you siphoned a ton of energy all at once, you'd be able to be seen, heard, touched. You're basically normal." I suggested.

"But that's the thing. During the years that you couldn't see me, it wasn't like that at all. I just had the energy. I didn't need to take it from anywhere. For the first few years I felt weak, but I had enough energy for things to feel pretty normal. I just went through everything that I tried to touch." he explained.

"Holy shit that actually happens?!" I ask, freaking out.

"I know! That was my reaction too!" That made me laugh. Just then, something flashed over Noah's face. My shoulders went rigid with anticipation.

"What?" I asked, concerned. The tension in my body relaxed slightly when he smiled.

"I'm hungry. I haven't been hungry in about 4 years." he says. A weak laugh escapes me.

"Let's eat then." I offer.

After a short argument over food, we decided that we aren't ordering pizza, or any take out for that matter. I offered to cook but Noah insisted that since I was letting him live here, the least that he could do is cook. So now I was sitting at the island, watching him stand at the stove.

"Whatcha making?" I ask him, leaning over the top of the island to get a better view.

"Well, since I'm working with a very understocked refrigerator and pantry, its going to have to be spaghetti and garlic bread." he explains. I blink in surprise. I was expecting something a lot simpler considering.

"Damn, cant wait to see what you can do with a properly stocked kitchen." I say, taking a sip of a glass of water.

"Oh you are in for a surprise." He says with a wink while stirring the pot of boiling water, adding olive oil.

I finally took the time to really look at Noah. We were so busy talking and asking questions earlier, I didn't really have the chance to not just look at him, but see him. I didn't ever try to imagine what they looked like. I guess I just never thought that it mattered. That I would never see them so why try to guess what they looked like, but now that I do, no matter what I would have created in my mind, it wouldn't even begin to describe him.

He was pretty tall, but not extremely. About 6'2" maybe. His eyes were a soft green, not striking like Luke's, but you definitely noticed that they were green within the first few moments of talking to him.

Noah's eyes have such life in them, so much more than I would have predicted, given his circumstances. His tanned skin was practically unblemished. I'd guess that he wasn't a day over 24.

He had dark blond hair. Not the kind of blond that looks dirty or mousy, it kind of shined when the lights hit it right. He was well built, but not all muscle.

"Whatcha looking at?" he asks with a teasing tone. That made me realized that I was staring at him.

"It's just kind of surreal you know? Knowing a person is there, but not knowing what they look like, then one day you're seeing them, hearing them, and then watching them make spaghetti." I joke.

"I know what you mean. More like being seen though. But you know, the same basic idea." He says while stirring the sauce with one hand and gesturing with the other.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help with anything?" I ask. He seemed to know his way around a kitchen. But I've learned the hard way that multitasking with stoves involved can be dangerous work.

"Positive. I owe you just as much as you owe me." he paused, in thought. "You know it could have been much worse." he says after a moment.

"What could've been?" I ask, taking another sip of water.

"You. You could have been so much worse. You could have been some old guy who walked around naked all day. Or an old nagging woman that had like 20 cats, which I am allergic to by the way." He says, while waving the spoon around. I choked on the water I was drinking. "You okay?" He asks.

I cough a few times before saying, "Yeah, yeah, fine. Don't make me laugh while I'm drinking something damnit!" I yell at him playfully.

"Just saying! I really lucked out here." He states with a defensive shrug. I smile with a small blush.

Eventually Noah finished cooking all of the food and we sat down on the couch and started watching TV while continuing to chat. It was one of those crime shows again, and as always, I was getting riled up.

I was rubbing my temples and shaking my head. "Sometimes they are just so damn stupid." I say.

"You sure do get into your TV." Noah says next to me. "You should see me read a book." I let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I've seen you throw one." he says. That sends us both into a laughing fit.

"Only one?" I ask, holding a piece of garlic bread.

"Okay, more like three." he admits. That makes me laugh again.

I had to admit, Noah was actually a really good cook, and thats without even touching food for almost 4 years. Nothing was burned, or had too much salt, or anything.

"Ok, how? How after 4 years, are you not the least bit rusty in the kitchen?" I ask, gesturing to the almost empty plates. "I've been silently correcting you for years." he explains with a blank face.

"Oh, silently huh? Like how I silently disagree with the TV?" I ask. That makes a smile break across his face, proving that he was only partly joking.

"Yeah pretty much." he admits. We laugh for a few minutes longer before deciding that it was getting late. We threw away the paper plates and tossed the silverware in the sink.

"Hold on a sec, I'll grab you some pillows and blankets, If you want to take a shower its over…" Noah quirked an eyebrow before I could finish.

"You know exactly where it is." I say with a laugh. He just smirks and nods his head. I walk over to the closet and open the door with a wince. I really need to clean this thing out someday. I move over some old shoe boxes and other junk in oder to pull out a couple extra pillows and one of the largest blankets that I own.

"Heads up." I say as I toss the pillows and blanket at Noah, who is sitting on the couch.

"Thanks." he says as he catches them.

"Goodnight." I say as I turn to leave.

"Goodnight." I hear behind me. I had a smile on my face as I entered my bedroom, I was lucky too.

Screaming pierced my ears. I could hear my mother scream in pain and in fear. There was a clanging noise. A knife was hitting the floor. I could hear the struggling and fighting. My veins ran cold in fear. I was trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping that the hunters wouldn't see me. The smell of smoke washed over me. It barely masked the smell of the blood. There was an endless pain of fear and terror in my chest. My legs were aching from running. There were tears running down my face. I was running as fast as I possible could. I'm never going to stop having these nightmares. I am never going to be able to forget the night the hunters came.

I was woken up by someone shaking me. "Hey. Brayden. Brayden, wake up." a voice said. There was an unfamiliar hand on my shoulder. I paused before I realized it was Noah.

I shot up, startled.

"Hey, it's just me. You're okay. You're okay." he said. "You were yelling and crying in your sleep." he explained. He dropped his hand from my shoulder. I glanced over at the alarm clock beside my bed, 2:08 AM, it read.

"It was just a nightmare. I get them all the time. I'm okay." I said, trying to play it off. I run my fingers through my hair from my face to the crown of my head.

"Uh no. That wasn't just a nightmare. You were terrified." he argued.

"I'm fine." I said, a little too forcefully. Noah stared into my eyes with his brows furrowed. He sighed, clearly giving up.

"Okay. Just, if you need anything, just ask, alright?" He turned to leave my room.

"Thanks." I say.

"No problem," he says slowly, his eyes still showing a little concern. I give him a small smile as he turns to leave. The door shuts behind him, enveloping me in darkness again. I exhale the breath I didn't know I was holding as I fell back against the pillows. I knew that it was going to take a while for me to get back to sleep again.

 **A/N: So what are your thoughts on Noah so far? His character will probably get more detailed as the chapters go on. I didn't want to give everything about him away in the first meeting, so you have plenty more to learn about him! The face claim I have for him is Drew Van Acker.**


	7. Reacquainted

_June 26th 2016_

"You want coffee? I'm going to make a pot." Noah asks me from the kitchen. He holds up a mug. "Sure." I say, while picking up my sketchbook. It was Sunday morning and I was drawing another bow and arrow. We had spent the past day and a half cleaning out the other bedroom. I had just been using it as a makeshift office and storage area. After work Friday I went out and got some stuff that the apartment would need now that it has two people living in it.

Noah sat down next to me and handed me my cup of coffee. I was about to say something but I stopped myself. "What?" he asks, while laughing. "I was going to ask how you knew how I took my coffee. But then I remembered." I answer. "Almost 4 years of living with someone, you pick up on things like that." he replies, with a smile on his face. "Whatcha drawing?" he asks me. "I don't know why, but for a while now I've been drawing the symbol on my necklace. The bow and arrow. Its so weird. I just feel like I have to draw it again." I say, while holding the locket around my neck.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself, since you already know everything about me." I ask him, after a little while. "I don't know everything. Remember there's still stuff you wont tell me." he says with a smirk. "True. But I know close to nothing about you, so spill." I counter. "Okay, okay, fine." he gives up.

"I was a business major at UW. It kind of runs in the family. My dad owns a large oil and natural gas company that is spread all over the U.S. and the company was supposed to be passed down to either me or my brother, Jack. Jack was 2 years older than me but he wasn't as invested into the company as I was. He was only in it or the money and the legacy that comes with being the son of James Carter." Noah explains. "Wait, your dad is James Carter? The same James Carter who's company managed a multi-million dollar operation in Texas?" I ask, dumbfounded. "That was dear old dad." he answers.

"Jack and I got along great as kids. We were practically inseparable. But when we got older, the pressure of the company got to both of us. We became more distant, and we bickered more." Noah explains. "I know how you feel." I tell him, with my eyes big. "About 5 or 6 years ago our dad was diagnosed with cancer, and the issue arose about who would get the company if he died. That drove me and Jack even further apart. Our dad was always on the fence about who it would go to. We couldn't just split it 50/50, because no decisions would get made. But the year before I died, me and Jack were closer than we had been in years. We decided that it didn't matter who got the company. We decided that if our dad did die we didn't want his last memories of his sons to be of us fighting. We just didn't care about it anymore. We decided that no company is more important than our relationship with each other. We were just brothers again." Noah told me. Noah smiled softly, thinking about the memory.

"Jack and I had a sister, Dakota. She died when she was 19. She was driving back from a party one night and a drunk driver veered onto the wrong side of the road. She was a little over 3 years older than Jack." he told me. His eyes were full of pain. "I'm so sorry. That must have been so hard." I say. Noah shifted uncomfortably in the couch. "Yeah, it was." he says.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "I know what its like to loose a sibling." I say. I cant tell him everything yet, but I can tell him some. I sigh quietly. I took my hand off of his shoulder. "Before I came here, my family and I lived in a small town on the coast of Maine. I had a brother, a family, a few friends. Luke and I got along okay when we were little, but things happened and we weren't close when we got older. But a couple weeks before I got here, my parents and Luke died in a house fire." I half lied. "I moved here to get a fresh start, and to try and find closure." I explain to him. Noah turned his body to face me. "Oh my god Brayden, I know what its like to lose a sibling, but not your whole family all at once." Noah says, sympathetically. I look down at my hands. They were starting to shake from the memory. "Luke and I weren't all that close when they all died. We hadn't been close in years." I tell him. My mind instantly flashed to the time Luke slapped me. I will never forget the fire in his eyes. He was a completely different person from the brother I knew.

I reached behind my neck and unclasped my necklace. I held the pendant in my hand for a moment. The chain wrapped around my hand. Noah just looked at me with an understanding look on his face. I studied the familiar patterns on the front and the back. Slowly I opened it to reveal the pictures that were placed in there almost 4 years ago. "This is them." I say softly, handing the open necklace to Noah. "You look just like your mom." Noah says with a smile. I just nod and half smile back as a response.

"Its why I have the nightmares. That night, I mean. I saw everything happen, and I couldn't do anything. I saw my whole family die right in front of me." I say. I zoned out staring at the floor. "When you said that you've been through enough to drive anyone mad, that's what you meant?" Noah asked me, his eyes showing just how sorry he was. I snapped out of the trance, with tears threatening to spill. I quickly blinked them away. "Yeah, that's why. But it was a long time ago. I can't believe that I'm still this upset about it." I say, trying to shake off the emotions. I wiped the tears from under my eyes. Noah held my hand in his own. My hand was dwarfed in his. "That's bullshit. You watched your whole family die. You can still be sad 4 years later. You never have to pretend that you've completely healed." Noah said.

"It's not that simple. Nothing is that simple anymore. Theres more to the story." I say after a beat. "There is so much more. More than you could ever imagine." I say in a pleading tone. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, its okay." Noah tells me. I can't tell him yet. It's too soon. "That night two weeks ago, when I ran out of here like a madman, and I came back hysterical. That was the night that I saw Luke for the first time in 4 years." I start. Noah didn't react. Probably because he was still processing what I had just said.

I stand up from the couch and walk to the area where I usually pace. "Luke was never dead. He let me think that he was dead for 4 years. He knew where I was, but he never felt like telling me that he was still alive." I said. A couple tears escaped my eyes. "Are you sure it was him?" Noah asks me. "I'm positive." I start. I turn to face Noah and wiped the tears from my face. "When that lightning struck, his eyes flashed white. Just like mine." I conclude. "Yeah you're right, there is nothing simple about any of that."

Somehow we ended that conversation without me having to get into detail about my life before I moved here. Or what I am. Its not safe for anyone to know what I am. For me or for them. I can't drag Noah into that. I cant risk his life too.

"Hey Noah?" I ask from the kitchen. Noah was on the couch looking through a couple of my sketchbooks. "Yeah?" he responds. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you die?" I ask him. He sighs. "You just told me that your dead brother is not actually dead. I honestly don't mind." he replies. "I was murdered." he says simply. "Holy shit. Who killed you?!" I ask, standing in the middle of the kitchen. "I've got no clue. I just vaguely remember the struggle, and I remember there was something about a knife. Its all blurry." he explains. His brows were furrowed, he was trying to remember that day.

I walked around the kitchen island and towards the living room. "I don't remember much of what happened. I remember feeling pain, and then everything just went dark. I woke up on the living room floor, and everything was gone. All of the stuff and furniture. It was probably a while after I died." Noah said. "All I really know is that when I woke up, I had this. It wasn't there before." Noah explained. He held up the right side of his shirt, exposing his side. There was a large scar, about 5 inches long. "Oh my god." I say as I get closer to get a better look.

"What's really frustrating is that I don't even know if my murder was solved." Noah says in a defeated voice. I laugh lightly. "How about we go see?" I say with en eyebrow raised. Noah just smiles as a response

We both walk down the hall to Noah's makeshift bedroom. Technically this was his bedroom before he died its just that there isn't any stuff in here yet. I haven't moved my computer stuff so its still sitting there on the desk. I sit down in the chair and Noah leans on the desk next to me with his arms crossed. We both look at the computer screen as I type in the words, _Noah Carter, murder, Seattle._ We both sit anxiously as the computer loads.

A few articles pop up immediately. Noah turned to face the computer. I click on the first link. It went to the same news page that had the article about the Knight Cafe massacre. "It says here you died on May 27th 2012. You were found my your roommate on the living room floor with a knife in your right side." I read aloud. "That makes a lot of sense." Noah says sarcastically over my shoulder. "You never told me that you had a roommate." I say as I look up at Noah. "Meh. Carson and I had only been living together for a few weeks before then. He wasn't even all the way move in when I died." Noah explained.

We continued reading the article until we got to the word: _UNSOLVED_. Noah sighed loudly. "Well its not like anything has changed." he says. "Im really sorry." I say. He shakes his head and crosses his arms. "Its fine really. I didn't know for all these years, and I still don't, so nothing is different for me." he says.

A few minutes later we had dropped the topic of his murder completely. We were in the kitchen trying to decide which place to order food from. "How about Italian? You know that place a couple miles from here? It delivers." I tell him while holding a menu. "How about Chinese? I've been craving that for a while now." He says, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Mm. That does sound good." I answer. Noah picks up my phone and starts pressing the buttons necessary to call the Chinese place. "What are you doing?" I ask him with a questioning look on my face. "I haven't done this in 4 years." he answers. I can hear the phone dialing next to Noah's ear. "Hi, I'd like to place an order for Brayden Archer." he start. I raise an eyebrow questionably.

Noah finished ordering our food and hung up the phone. "Im dead, and you just happen to have a guys name so it was easier this way." he answers. I half smirk in response.

A while later there is a knock at the door and Noah stands up to get it. "You are not answering the door." he says protectively with a finger pointed at me. I just roll my eyes and lean back on the couch. "Fine." I mutter.

An hour or so later we were sitting on the couch channel surfing. By channel surfing I mean Noah flips back and forth between every sport event known to man. "Can you just pick something?!" I say, while gesturing with the chopsticks in my hand. "I am trying to multitask!" Noah says while waving the remote. "How can you possibly keep up with all of this?" I ask. "I got a lot of practice in college." he says simply, without looking away from the screen. I stood up from the couch and walked to the kitchen to get more food.

I put my plate in the microwave and set the timer. I turned around and looked for the packs of soy sauce that came with the food. Across the kitchen something flashes in the corner of my eye. I look up to see Noah with a scared look written on his face. "What the hell just happened?" I ask him. "I was about to ask you the same thing." He says with big eyes. "I was just thinking about walking over here and grabbing another soda. Then all of a sudden I feel this cold air, then I'm here." Noah explains.

I sighed loudly. Then I laughed at the irony of it all. "Of course you can zap yourself places." I say. Noah laughs too. I run my fingers through my hair to the crown of my head, and smile. "Lets see what else you can do." I suggest. Noah smirks and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay lets see if you can do it again." I say from across the living room. Noah was standing on the other side of the room, facing me. He nodded and took a deep breath.

He had a focused look on his face. His eyebrows were drawn together. I just watched him, waiting for something to happen. But after about a minute of trying Noah gave up. "I don't know, maybe I was doing something different?" Noah suggests. He looks at me with a questioning look.

All of a sudden Noah was right in front of me, RIGHT in front of me. It started me enough to knock me backwards. All of a sudden I was falling. I didn't even have time to react. In no time there was a hand grasping my wrist, pulling me back upwards before I could hit the ground.

"Sorry, I guess I still don't have the hang of this yet." he says with a nervous smile. "Thanks." I say. "Do you know what you did this time?" I ask. "I think so, yeah. It's hard to explain but its kind of like taking a mental step in that direction. Only I end up wherever I was thinking about." he explains. "You were thinking about knocking me over?" I ask, teasingly. He laughs. "I was thinking about flashing over here, its just that I was looking at you when I did." he scratches the back of his head nervously. That makes me laugh. "Its fine really." I say.

"I was wondering, can you leave?" I ask Noah. He gives me a concerned and questioning look. We were back on the couch watching TV. "Its not that I'm asking you to leave or anything, its just, are you physically able to leave?" I correct myself. "Okay, you really had me worried there for a second. I don't know, I mean I tried way back when I first realized what happened to me. But I haven't tried in a while." he says.

We both stand up and head to the front door. I open it and gesture with my hand. "After you." I joke. "Why thank you." Noah replies. Noah pauses before crossing the threshold. "Here goes nothing." he says to no one in particular. Noah takes a step forward, into the hallway. A smile spreads across both of our faces as he walks into the hallway with ease. "You have no idea how good this feels." Noah says.

I walk out in the hallway with him as he turns to the left and take a few steps. The hallway only had 3 other doors leading to other apartments. There was a large window that took up most of the wall at the end of the hall. From there you could see the Seattle skyline.

Noah audibly sighs in relief and he begins laughing. Soon we were both laughing in the middle of the hallway. It had to be almost 10PM, and we were laughing in the middle of a hallway. "What is going on here?!" a voice says from behind Noah. Well shit. This might be hard to explain.

That voice belonged to none other than our neighbor, Mrs. Warren. Mrs. Warren was about early to mid 50s. She is by far one of the rudest people I have ever met. When I first moved here she did not like me at all. She was always knocking on my door to complain about how noisy I was or about how she got some of my mail. Once she even accused me of stealing hers. Not only had I not done that, but I hadn't made a sound the entire time I had lived here.

Mrs. Warren had shoulder length brown hair that was starting to grey. She was always scowling, which probably was the source of all the wrinkles that adorned her face. From what I gather, Mrs. Warren and her husband had been arguing lately. I could always hear them fighting as I left for work in the mornings or when I came back in the evenings.

"Mrs. Warren. How nice to see you." Lie, it was most definitely not nice to see her. Mrs. Warren only scowls as a response. She quickly looked over to Noah, who still had his back to her. "You should show your elders some respect boy." she says, speaking to Noah. She put one hand on his shoulder and forced him to turn around. Shit, this is _so_ not gonna go well.

Mrs. Warren's face grew pale the second she looked at Noah. "You, you, you can't be! You died years ago. You're dead." she rambled. She began backing up towards the door to her apartment. "Mrs. Warren, calm down, please, we can explain." I plead. She turned and shut her door in our faces. Noah knocked on the door. "Mrs. Warren, please open the door." Noah says. "If you don't leave, I will call the police!" she speaks through the door.

I froze in my place. My heart began racing. Noah's eyes grew big beside me. I quickly turned to him with a look of fear in my eyes. By the look Noah had written on his face, he knew that sure as hell wasn't an option.

Noah and I quickly turned away from Mrs. Warren's door, eager to get out of the hallway as quickly as possible.

I shut the door as soon as we were both inside. "Well, I think that went well." Noah joked. All I could do was force a small smile. That smile quickly disappeared as I thought of Mrs. Warren's threat. Staying hidden has never been more important. With all the murders and shootings that have been happening, attention is on Seattle. Hunters are definitely here. Theres not a chance that they aren't. God knows how many are already here.

 **A/N: Sorry it took so long! Lots has gone down in the real world for me. I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. I really appreciate it! I have made a list of writing goals that I want to have completed by October 14th. One of those goals is getting this story to 25 reviews. So if you would please take the extra 30 seconds to review this it would really help. Ask me questions! Tell me who you feel about the characters! Tell me your predictions and what you want to happen! If I get to 45 reviews my friend had to pay me $40, so help a sister out.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **Secondly, Id just like to tell yall a few things.**

 **Y'all are REALLY going to hate Luke. That is, if I do my job right.**

 **Brayden is still very damaged by what has happened. It may seem like she's starting to open up to Noah, but she's still really closed off. She feels like her being a shapeshifter has made the world 10x more dangerous. She feels alone in the world, because for a long time, she thought she was. She didn't have Noah, she didn't have Skylar, she didn't have Charlie. It was just her, trying to survive in a world that wanted her dead.**

 **.**

 **Both Noah and Brayden have felt alone for 4 years without actually being alone.**

 **.**

 **Noah wants Brayden to trust him, because even without her knowing it, he has been there for 4 years. He has been watching her suffer and feel pain, without being able to do anything. That is two completely different sides of torture. He lived with the questions that seemed like they would never be answered. Who killed him? No one knows. Is his dad okay? He doesn't have a clue. How has his family felt with losing 2 of their 3 children? He can only imagine.**

 **.**

 **I should have the next chapter up within the next couple weeks. Until then,**

 **thx,** ** _infinity. box_**


	8. Reawakening

**A/N: Important!: If you are sensitive to any content that includes anxiety, depression, and/or panic attacks, I advise you to not read past the striked through line.**

 _One Day Later_

"Hey Archer, since we've been so busy lately I went ahead and ordered more books. A second-hand bookstore in Tacoma closed down and I bought up most of their stock." Max tells me at work the next day. I glanced around at the mostly barren shelves.

"That was probably a good idea." I say. The traffic had slowed down some so it was just Max, a couple customers, and I in the store. It probably wasn't going to speed back up, seeing how it was nearing the end of the day. I heard the bell above the door ring, signaling that someone else had come in. I looked up to see Skylar with a big smile on her face.

"What's got you all happy?" I ask after she sits down at the end of the counter. Skylar shrugs as she answers.

"I don't know. I'm just in a happy mood." she replies. A customer started walking up beside Skylar. He was a few years younger than Skylar and I. He had red hair and a face covered in freckles.

"Where are the horror books?" he asks. Before me or Max could get a word out of our mouths Skylar answers him.

"Third case from the right." she says, while pointing in the general direction of the books he was looking for. Max and I both looked at her in disbelief.

"What?" she asked us, clearly noticing our expressions. Max just busied himself with putting money into the register.

"Anyways, you know those books that I ordered? There's going to be a lot of them. I bought up most of their store." Max explains with a nervous smile on his face.

"Your killing me here Max. How do you expect me to shelve all of those?" I ask, frustrated. Max shrugged his shoulders as he put money into the register.

"I can help. I mean, I know the system pretty well and I really don't mind." Skylar offers. Max furrows his brows, thinking for a moment.

"Well then why don't you just go ahead and work here then? Business has been booming and I don't think just Archer and I can keep up with it." Max offers. A smile instantly spread across my face. Skylar's eyes got wide with excitement.

"Yes! Oh my god! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she yelled and started jumping up and down. She ran over towards Max and hugged him around the neck, almost suffocating him. I started laughing at the sight.

"I cant wait to start! This is going to be so exciting." she says, still slowly killing Max. His eyes got big and he started to try to pry himself out of her grasp.

"Off." he ordered. Skylar immediately unhanded him. I was still laughing at the scene she was creating. Skylar smiled awkwardly, obviously still excited about the job. She looked over at me and her smile grew.

"We're going to be working together!" she said, as she hugged me too. It took me a second to respond to what was happening, after all its been so long. I hugged her back after a second and started laughing again.

"Your good mood just got better I see." I joke. I was happy too. Im tired of being lonely. I haven't had a real friend since before my whole world got turned upside down. Skylar was beaming with excitement.

"First, one quick question." Max said to Skylar. "What's your last name?" he asked.

"Everett." She answered. At first I don't think she realized, but after a moment her face changed. "Im never going to hear my first name again, am I?" she accused, more than asked Max.

"Afraid not." I answer for him. A small smile grew on my face. I was beginning to get kind of quiet with just Max and I here. Having someone else working here would be a nice change.

"Archer, I'm going to need you to run the register for a while, and then if you could close up that would be much appreciated." said Max.

"Wait a minute, where are you gonna be?" I ask him out of utter confusion. Max had never, in all these years, left me alone to close up the place. I have my own key, but I've only used it when I came in the mornings and he wasn't there yet.

"I've got to meet that guy from Tacoma to sign a check. Expect all of those books to be here Monday morning." Max told us. Skylar was just standing there, listening to this conversation with wide eyes. "Everett, your job is to clean the windows. They're getting dusty on the inside. Don't bother with the outside, they get cleaned with the rain." Max adds while gesturing to the windows with a waving hand.

Skylar nods her head and looks at the windows with an understanding look. "Okay, simple enough." she says.

Max clasped his hands together in one loud swoop. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it then." Max says. He steps out from behind the counter and heads towards the back room.

"Just to warn you, the pay isn't all that great." I tell Skylar once Max had disappeared. I really didn't care about the pay, hell I'd do this for free. It wasn't even really a job for me, more like a hobby.

"I really don't care. I just need something to do, and I love bookstores so this is the perfect fix or me." Skylar explains. She gestures to the store around us. I just smile softly. I was the same way.

"Alright, well I'm off go go spend some money." Max announces as he returns from the back room. He put on his jacket as he opened the door. The clouds above the city were getting darker, signaling that it was going to rain again soon. Max gave us a final mock salute and went out the door, into the oncoming rain.

Skylar and I turned to look at each other and smiles spread on both of our faces. Not soon after Skylar let out a squeal and hugged me around the neck, just like she did Max. This girl was very, very happy. But I couldn't say that I wasn't too. I miss having friends.

I didn't have too many growing up, and the ones that I did think that I've been dead for years. When I left I just got the hell out of there. I couldn't tell anyone that I was okay or that I was leaving. Leaving Eastport was one of the hardest things I had ever done. I grew up there. I had never lived anywhere else. It was home. But I had to leave it and everyone I knew behind.

Eventually Skylar and I had to get back to work. I dug the ladder out from the back and she started to clean the windows while I rang up customers. It was pretty much a regular day at work, plus Skylar.

A few hours passed and the end of the day came. The windows were clean and the store was empty aside from just Skylar and I.

"I think we are done for the day." I tell her as I grab my bag. Today was pretty tiring, not at bad as last week, but still really busy.

"Great. Hey, do you want to go grab a coffee or something?" Skylar asks me as she puts on her jacket. I smile as I put my bag on my shoulder.

"Maybe another time. I've got to get home tonight. My roommate gets worried easily. But I'll take you up on that offer eventually." I answer. We both step outside the door and into the rain. It was a light drizzle, nothing too crazy. "See you tomorrow." I say to Skylar as she walks off.

"See ya then!" she calls back. I turn the key in the door to lock it. Making sure to test the door before walking off. I breathed in the smell of rain and listened to the sounds of the city. Nearby there was music blaring out of the windows of an apartment. Somewhere off in the distance the alarm of a car was going off.

All this took some getting used too when I first got here. Most nights I laid awake, not being able to sleep because of the constant sounds from outside. My hometown had barely 1,300 people living in it when I was there. It was almost always completely silent at night.

I started to get near the apartment building when an eery feeling washed over me. I looked at the area surrounding the building, there were police cars lining the street. I began to walk faster and faster. Finally I reached the door to the building. _What was happening?_ I took a deep breath before finally entering the door.

The entire atmosphere of the place had changed. What once was a quiet, seemingly empty place, was now busy and buzzing with life. I hurriedly walked towards the stairs entrance, passing neighbors I hardly see and some i'd never seen at all. The elevator always took forever to get there, and right now I didn't want to waste any time. I ran up the stairs to the third floor.

When I got to my floor I looked around frantically, there were even more cops up here. _I just have to not stand out. Act like any other concerned neighbor. Don't spend more time out here than you have to._ I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Excuse me, Miss? Do you live here? Because if you don't, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." an officer says to me. He was shorter than Noah, but still taller than me. Either way, he was intimidating with the cold stare he was giving me.

"Yes, I live here. I was just heading in." I say quietly. I tore away from his gaze. I didn't want him to be able to remember my face. I turned to walk down the hallway and back home when I saw a gurney being rolled out of a door. There was a black body bag laying on it, completely lifeless. Yellow police tape crossed the doorway. The Warrens doorway.

Just as I noticed the tape, a man stepped out of the Warren's place. If I thought Noah was tall before, I take it back. This guy made him look short. I froze in fear, unable to move. Following him was another man, almost just as tall. They were both wearing suits and had looks on their faces saying they hadn't liked what they had just seen. The first man had longer brown hair that barely touched the collar of his shirt. His dark green eyes looked over to the other man who was saying something I hadn't heard. The other man who had just spoken had short blond hair and bright green eyes. Both men seemed to be in their early thirties.

"Excuse me, ma'am? Im agent Brooks, this is agent McKenzie. Do you know what happened here?" The taller one with the darker hair asks me. It took me a second to even realize they were talking to me. They each pulled out badges and flipped them open. They were FBI. I didn't even bother taking more than a glance at the badges. _I cant waste time._

"Um, no actually. What's going on?" I answer. I kept my voice low. I didn't want anymore attention than I already had. I crossed my arms nervously and glanced around.

"Did you know the Warren's well?" Agent Brooks asks me as he and his partner put away their badges.

"Not really. I mean, I pretty much just keep to myself around here. But and I have spoken a few times in the past." I answer. I made sure to leave out the last time we had 'spoken' Noah and I almost gave her a heart attack.

" was murdered sometime this morning. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary lately? Has been acting differently? Almost like he's another person? Have there been strange people around lately? Anything like that?" Agent McKenzie tells me. His partner looks at him for only a second but I didn't miss it. McKenzie said something he shouldn't have.

"I don't know. I've never seen . I've only heard his voice." I say. I sigh before continuing speaking. "The Warrens had been fighting a lot for the past month or so. I can always hear them screaming when I'm in the hallway. You don't actually think he would do this do you?"

"Yes we do, unfortunately. He was caught on the Warrens security cameras killing her. But we don't know everything yet. If you can remember anything, anything at all, please give us a call." McKenzie tells me. He hands me a small rectangular card with his name and number.

"I will. If you don't mind, I'd better be getting home." I say. "But one more thing. The security camera video, did it have the same camera flare as the others?" I ask. I needed to get out of there. Ive already spent too much time talking to cops. I shouldn't have asked, but I had to know.

"Yes it did. We think it has something to do with the cameras this security company has been producing. But we are looking into it. Have a good night Miss."Agent Brooks said. The two agents each gave a small smile and turned to walk away. I didn't waste a second. The second their backs were turned I opened the door to my apartment and slipped through.

As I walked into the apartment I was in a daze. I mindlessly walked over to the kitchen and put my keys in the bowl on the island. The bowl has an assortment of keys and coins that lined the bottom. There was a soft sound of metal meeting metal as I tossed them in. Noah came out of the hallway and turned into the kitchen. I barely paid him any notice. I was staring at the card the FBI Agent gave me. Slowly, I put it into the bowl with the keys. But I never took my eyes off of it.

"Hey, what happened outside? There was a lot of noise earlier." Noah says next to me. I barely register that he said something. I had too many thoughts going through my head.

 _He was here._

 _Luke was right down the hall._

"Are you okay?" Noah says. The words seem distant, like they were a million miles away. I started to breathe heavily. My hands were shaking.

 _He killed her._

 _"_ Brayden, what happened?! What happened outside?" Noah said again. But I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. Noah started shaking my shoulder. I barely felt it. I can't breathe.

 _He hasn't stopped killing. He wont stop. He won't ever stop._

"Nowhere is safe, he won't ever stop." I barely whisper. I didn't even know that I had said it, it was so quiet. I felt light headed and weak. My breathing was shallow and frantic at the same time.

"Shit. I think you're having a panic attack. You just need to calm down, okay? Just breathe, calm down." Noah says beside me. _Was I really having a panic attack?_ An intense feeling of sheer terror washed over me like ice. I started to hyperventilate.

"Ok, um… come here, sit down." Noah said next to me. My vision was blurring around the edges. I was just so _cold_. I couldn't move, it felt like I had ice coursing through my veins.

Noah noticed that I wasn't going to be moving on my own anytime soon pretty quickly. I heard him swear under his breath. "Screw it." he muttered. All of a sudden I wasn't standing on my own feet anymore.

Even though I was pretty tall at 5'7", Noah was able to lift me up with ease. All I could see was his blue shirt, only inches from my face. I could hear his footsteps echo in my ears. He carried me over to the couch and sat me down in the middle.

He sat down next to me and very quietly began to talk to me. His voice was barely over a whisper.

"Nothing can hurt you here. Everything's going to be okay. Whatever it is, you can get through it. You always do. Hell, you moved across the entire country by yourself, as a teenager. You're going to get through this." Noah says, trying to comfort me. That only reminded me of why I left, and why I'm currently having a panic attack.

I was staring off into space at the floor by our feet. I managed to whisper the words, " _I can't"._ I turned to face Noah who was looking at me with deep concern. "I can't." I repeat. Tears were in the brims of my eyes. Luke was going to kill me too. Maybe he'll kill everyone. I cant go anywhere without bringing pain and death with me. Maybe I _should_ die, like I was supposed to 4 years ago. I can't be the reason why more people have to die. I can't bring anymore pain to these people. _I can't._ Thats when the tears started to pour. I was so terrified and I just couldn't handle it anymore. Everything just became so overwhelming. It all just hit me at once and I just couldn't keep it together anymore.

All of a sudden I felt oddly warm. It was sudden and comforting. It took me a second to realize that Noah had pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. My hands were still shaking. Noah slowly stroked my back up and down. I finally just let some of my guard down and trusted him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held onto him for dear life.


	9. Reconstructed

_The Same Day_

Sam POV:

"I don't know Dean, is there even a case here anymore? There haven't been any murders in almost a week. Maybe he took off?" I said. We were in the motel room looking over the case for the thousandth time.

"Come on Sam, all we need is one lead. We've never backed down from a case just because things got quiet for a while. We are so close!" Dean says loudly from across the room. We had a board on the wall with the map of Seattle tacked to it. We were putting the pins on a physical map rather than a digital one. But even then, there wasn't much of a pattern.

"Check this out." Dean says. He was staring at the map with his eyebrows drawn together. I get up from the table and walk towards him and the board.

"What is it?" I ask from beside him. I cross my arms as I look at the map.

"Lines. There are two lines that cross right here." Dean drags his finger down two streets. They intersect. There were 4 businesses stretched along one street, and two single murders on the other street. But none of the other killings follow the lines.

"Could it just be a coincidence? There aren't any other signs of a pattern." I say. Dean looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

"When has there ever been a coincidence in our line of work?" Dean replies. I audibly sigh and shake my head. Dean crosses his arms.

"Never." I answer. We both turn to look at the map again, to see if there was anything we were missing. The lines were the only thing that resembled a pattern.

Only seconds after I answered, the police scanner on the table began going off. Both Dean and I turned our heads in its direction. Something urgent had happened. I walked over to the table and picked up the small device.

" _We've got a code 10 at an apartment building on the outer edge of the city, with a possible 40. One death that we know of. Suspect has been contained."_ a woman's voice said. That peaked our interest. The voice continued to name off two street names that the building was on the corner of.

"Homicide." Dean says behind me. I turned to look at him with my eyebrows raised. "Looks like things aren't so quiet anymore." Dean says with a smirk.

"It might have nothing to do with the case, Dean. We don't know anything yet." I say. Things were so quiet for so long. Why the silence? Then it just starts up again? Dean walks over to the map on the wall. He traces two streets until they intersect. and stabs a red pin in the center of the X.

"Or it might have everything to do with the case. Get dressed, we're gonna go check it out." he says while reaching for his fake FBI uniform. I walk over to the map. My eyes grew wide as I realized the place where the most recent murder was, was in the dead center of the lines from before.

"Agents Brooks and McKenzie, FBI." I say as we walk into the large apartment. Dean and I flash our badges to the cops in the room. Police officers were starting to roll out the crime scene tape. Yellow evidence cards littered the floor, marking every sign of the struggle.

"Agents, this way." A scrawny looking cop says from across the living room. His short dark hair and pale skin made him look more frail than he was. Dean and I stepped around the puddle of blood that formed around the body. "This is Kathleen Warren. Fifty-three years old, married, mother of one. This morning, she was stabbed 6 times in the abdomen with a kitchen knife." the officer says. He gestures to a knife covered in blood on the floor near the body. We all crouch down to get a closer look.

"That's overkill. Are we looking at someone with a close relationship with her?" Dean asks while pointing to the stab wounds.

"Definitely. The only evidence we can find is DNA matching the husband. Its all over the place. His skin under her nails, his bloody fingerprints on the body and the knife, you name it. But the most damning evidence is the security camera footage." The officer explains.

"We are going to need to see that." I say. The officer nods. We all stand up from our positions on the floor.

"Of course. Right this way agents." he answers. He gestures to the computer on the other side of the room and begins walking in that direction.

"Mr. Warren was the one to call 911. But when first responders got here he was extremely upset. Upon seeing this footage he was immediately arrested and brought in for questioning." the officer continues. He opens up a video and presses play.

The video showed Mrs. Warren in the kitchen cooking something. There wasn't any sound. Then Mr. Warren comes in and grabs a knife. The two exchange a few words. Mrs. Warren looks terrified. She begins to run towards the living room. She doesn't get far, once she's halfway across the room she trips on a rug. Mr. Warren climbs on top of her and begins to stab her, over and over. And if that wasn't sickening enough, after she is dead, Mr. Warren looks up at the camera. His eyes were a glowing white, he smiles and winks at the camera before walking off frame.

"Can we um, get a copy of this?" I ask. I clear my throat, trying to get that image out of my head. Dean gives me a knowing look. The eyes. They were glowing.

"What do you make of the lens flare with his eyes?" Dean asks the officer.

"We are thinking it has something to do with the cameras the security companies are producing. We are still looking into it." he offers. Dean and I just nod as an answer.

"Is it possible for us to get a copy of this?" I ask him. I point to the computer screen, which is paused on that sick smile. the officer just nods as he walks off to what I assume is getting us a copy.

"So we're definitely thinking its a shapeshifter." Dean points out. "It's just; he went from killing multiple people within a couple of days, to waiting almost a whole week without a single drop of blood spilt. There is no rhyme or reason with this guy."

"I don't know, Dean. This one's tricky." I say. The officer from before comes around the corner with a CD in hand.

"Here you are, Agents. This is the entire footage from the past few days. There isn't any audio unfortunately. But this should show you anything you might need to see." he explains. We all have to take a step back to get out of the way for the coroner to take the body out of the apartment. The black body bag rolled by on a gurney. Dean and I said a quick thank you to the officer and turned to leave.

I duck under the police tape stretched across the door and Dean follows suit. The hallway was full of other officers and the people in charge of cleaning up crime scenes.

"What if theres something more that we're missing here?" Dean says as he crosses under the tape. He was right. There is much more to this story than we know. There was a girl in the hallway that was staring at the scene with a concerned look on her face.

I get her attention and begin questioning her. She doesn't know much because she stays to herself but she knows the Warrens. Her blue eyes were looking around nervously. I mean, who wouldn't be nervous after your neighbor was murdered right across the hall?

"-almost like he's a different person?" I hear Dean say next to me. He didn't actually say that, _right_? I look at him in disbelief. The girl continues to tell us about how the Warrens had been fighting lately. That's going to make it easy for the police to pin this on him. Dean hands her one of his fake cards and tells her to call if she can think of anything else. Then the girl asks something that I had not been expecting.

"…The security camera video, did it have the same camera flare as the others?" she asks. Dean and I are taken aback at first but after a second I tell her the same excuse the police officer told us earlier. She seemed to believe it.

"If you don't mind me asking ma'am, why do you ask about the camera flares?" I ask her.

"They've been on the news. No one else seems to know why they are showing up, just thought I'd ask." she says.

Dean and I walked away and as soon as we were out of sight I stop him.

"Dude! What the hell was that?" I ask him.

"What?!" Dean asks.

" _'_ _Has Mr. Warren been acting differently lately, almost like he's another person?_ '" I mock. "You might as well have asked her, ' _Do you think he was actually a shapeshifter wearing his face?_ '" I continue.

"It didn't make any difference! We had to ask somehow!" Dean defends. I sigh in defeat.

"I know that, you just could have been more subtle. Just be careful how you say things." I argue. Dean just nods as we wait forever for the elevator to arrive.


	10. Rejection

**A/N: Guess who's back bitches! I'm terribly sorry for the extremely long wait but I am back with another chapter. I had to take some time off from writing to focus on myself and getting better. In the past year I have done so many things that I am proud of and I think that gave me the extra push I needed to find the motivation to write. I am currently rewriting the chapters that have already been posted. So if you re-read them you might notice a few things are different. But there are a few that are still up that haven't been updated yet. I was going to wait to post this chapter after I got them edited but i grew impatient. If you would please take the time to vote on the poll on my profile I would really appreciate it. I think knowing yalls opinion might help me make a decision. Y'all might have noticed that I changed my username, my profile pic, and the cover for this story. Leave a review or PM me your thoughts. This is an extremely long chapter (Over 4,000** **words!) so enjoy!**

That Saturday I came home a little early. Max sent Skylar and I home an hour ahead of schedule today. It was unusual, but i'm not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth. Especially after the brutal work day we had just put in. I smiled as I recalled Skylar's whining at the amount of manual labor involved.

I was holding a cup of coffee in each hand as I maneuvered the apartment door shut with my foot. The smell of the coffee reaching my nose as I took a glance around the space i've called home for the past few years. Only a few things have changed in that frame of time, most notably the blond man now passed out asleep on the living room couch.

A smile made its way across my face. I finally had someone in my life that I could talk to. Someone I'm starting to trust more and more.

Soft snores escaped Noah as he slept. The TV remote was still in his hand but the TV had turned itself off, probably hours ago.

I walked through the living room and to the kitchen, careful to make as little sound as possible. After placing all my things on the kitchen counter, I took the two cups to the living room and gently set it on the table next to the couch.

I looked at Noah as he slept, his nose twitched every so often. Cute. Something pulled at my heart when I looked at his sleeping face. The face of my best friend in this entire world. A mischievous smile grew on my face as I inched closer.

"Honey, I'm home!" I yelled right next to Noah's ear. He jolted awake, sending the TV remote to the floor. His jade green eyes were wild as they quickly looked around, searching for the source of the loud noise that woke him up.

When his eyes finally landed on me he put two-and-two together. His shoulders seemed to relax as I began laughing uncontrollably.

"Wha- why would you do that?" he panted through a small laugh of his own.

"You just looked too vulnerable, i'm sorry I couldn't resist," I admitted. Noah fell back on the couch with an exasperated sigh. "So how was your day?" I ask, looking at him from over the back of the couch.

"Just great until like 10 seconds ago." he rasped, his voice still layered by sleep. The smile on his face revealed that he had only been joking. He quickly grabbed a pillow and threw it in my direction. It smacked me right in the face then fell to the floor. The smile hasn't faded from my face.

I threw the pillow to the chair next to the couch and stood up.

"But seriously, how was your day? You didn't spend the entire time sleeping in, did you?" I ask. I started to move into the kitchen.

"No, I actually went out and picked up a few things. I borrowed your cap, I hope that's okay." A small surge of nervousness flooded through me. People know him in this city. What if he'd been recognized again?

"Yeah that's totally fine. Believe me, I would be more worried if you went without it," I answered. "Did you remember to get a pair of sunglasses?" I ask.

"It was my first stop, Brayden. Please don't worry so much." he said with raised eyebrows.

I sighed in response. I couldn't help but worry. Worrying is pretty much all I've done for a while.

"Sorry man, no promises. Hey, I got off a little early today so I went over to that coffee place you were telling me about. You know the one on Sherman Street?"

Noah thought for a moment and then nodded.

"Your's is the cup on the right." I say while pointing to the coffee on the table behind Noah. "Still no milk, two sugars?" I ask, crossing my fingers dramatically.

Noah smiles at my antics.

"Yep. Still no milk, two sugars. I've drank coffee the same way since middle school, I'm pretty stuck in my ways." He chuckles. He leans over to pick up both cups, bringing them to the kitchen and handing me mine. The heat coming through the cup warms my hands comfortingly.

"You hyped this place up pretty strongly, Noah. I'm expecting great things from this little cup." I say with a false look of determination.

"This used to be my go-to place when I was in college. I practically kept them in business during finals." Noah recalls. A look of nostalgia crosses over his face. But it quickly disappeared. "If things haven't changed since I've been gone, this will be one of the best cups of coffee you will ever have." Noah adds.

Taking his word for it, I took a sip from the drink in my hands. Immediately I was assaulted with an almost sour, bitterness. It's initial taste was similar to the bottom of someones shoe after a rainy day. It tasted 10x worse than it smelled. My reaction must have shown on my face because Noah immediately started laughing.

"Oh come on, there's no way it's that bad. This place was amazing a couple years ago." he defended.

"Noah, this tastes like battery acid's ugly sister. Those couple years have not been kind." I joke. It wasn't too far off from the truth if I'm being honest.

Immediately, Noah took a swig from his own cup. But his face betrayed him with a look of total disgust.

"Oh my god. That's- that's horrendous." he says, making a weird face as he looks at the coffee inside the cup. I laugh at his choice of words. "So you are telling me, that I _die_ , and my favorite coffee place in this entire city goes to absolute shit? Talk about going down with your ship." Noah rants. He smiles at the irony.

This earns a laugh from me and a painful smile.

"I'm sorry," I say, still laughing but sincere none the less. Neither of us had stopped smiling. It felt great. I haven't smiled this much in a very long time. I looked up at Noah's face to see him already looking at me. I noticed dark circles around his eyes. They didn't have the same light as they did when I met him.

"Hey, do you want to sleep some more? You look tired. I could start dinner and wake you up when it's done?" I suggested.

Noah frowned almost instantly. He immediately nods his head no.

"No, no I'm fine. Besides, it's my night to cook. And I'm afraid that if I leave you alone in the kitchen for too long there wont be a kitchen left to wake up to." he jokes.

"If you are referring to the other night, in my defense I thought you turned the oven off." I protest. Noah had taken the lasagna out of the oven for me and reached over the pots on the stove to turn off what I later learned, was the timer. I had been at the kitchen counter, engrossed in the TV in the living room. It was yet another cop show. I had been waiting for the new season to release for weeks now, and I was not missing a second of the premiere.

"Hey, I'm going to run to the bathroom real quick, can you turn the oven off?" I vaguely remember Noah asking.

"Uh-huh." I had mumbled. my eyes not moving from the screen.

Well long story short, I could have burned the building to ashes. Granted, I hadn't actually set a fire, but the oven smelled like charcoal for a while.

"So smartass, what are you making?" I tease. Noah playfully smirks.

* * *

"You amaze me sometimes." I tell him. He was mixing a glaze for the chicken. I lost count of the spices and ingredients he mixed into the small bowl.

"Really now?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. That seemed to boost his ego a fraction. I shook my head as I smiled.

"Well, maybe just your cooking." I counter. He nods in understanding, a deep laugh coming from his chest.

"Hey can you start slicing up the chicken? Then maybe a lemon or two?" he asks. I nodded and took a knife from the block. "So how was the bookstore? You haven't talked about it lately."

"Same old same old, I guess. Nothing era defining has happened recently." I said with a shrug. Noah chuckled with a grin.

"You've got to give me something sometimes. It's pretty interesting to me. I _am_ cooped up in here most of the time." I nodded in understanding. I had been feeling guilty about that. Noah hardly ever left the apartment. And when he did he stayed in this area and always wore sunglasses and a hat.

The air around us was beginning to get uncomfortable. Neither of us wanted to talk about it anymore. He remained silent for a moment too long and I knew that it was up to me to change the subject.

"You know, that coffee place on Sherman? All they need is a little rebranding. New labels, new bottles…" I start.

"Rebranding?" he asks, clearly confused. He turned on the stove and placed a pan on the burner.

"Rebranding. Yes, if they would just start selling it as a weed killer they could seriously be on to something there." Noah immediately bursts out in laughter. "No, no. I'm dead serious. They wouldn't need to change a thing! Coffee scented weed killer. I'd buy that." I ramble. He only kept laughing and nodding. Our spirits immediately lifted.

I looked over at him again. He still looks so tired. You could see it written all over him. The way he slouched, the way he swayed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He kept zoning out as he stirred the ingredients in the bowl.

"Noah, are you sure you don't want to just crash for a few minutes? I can finish up here and wake you up when everything is done?" I ask him, concern surely written all over my face.

"No, I'm fine." he shakes his head and lets out a long sigh. "I just haven't been sleeping well at night lately." he admits. I immediately begin to feel guilty.

"I'm so sorry for waking you up earlier. That's probably the most sleep you've gotten in a while." I say.

"Hey don't worry about it. I catch a few hours a night. Besides, I wouldn't have slept for much longer than that anyway." he offers. He didn't seem angry at all. But that didn't stop me from still feeling bad. Noah crossed the corner of the kitchen to the sink to wash his hands. "It's just, I've had a lot on my mind lately," he pauses.

I froze, the knife still in my right hand and the lemon in my left.

"What's wrong?" I ask, even though I already knew what he was going to say. I began cutting through the lemon placed in my palm.

Noah lets out an exasperated sigh. He dries his hands with a towel before lifting the right side of his shirt, revealing his scar.

"Someone killed me. And no one knows who." he says with a quiet voice. My heart sank for him. At least I knew who tried to kill me, Noah must be terrified. Its got to be hard for him to talk about. He hasn't mentioned his death much at all.

I nod in understanding. His whole demeanor has changed in the past few minutes. His broad shoulders seemed tenser, his movements not as fluid as they used to be.

I was shocked from my focus as I felt a stinging pain coming from my left hand. I immediately drop everything in my grasp and wince. I looked towards my injured palm. Blood was running down the back of my hand and dripping on the counter.

Apparently the sounds of me dropping the knife to the floor and my wince of pain got Noah's attention. Because he was at my side in a flash.

"Are you okay?" he says, worry in his voice. I dumbly nod my head. "Hey let me take a look at that." he says reaching for my hand. I begin to panic. I know that the cut will heal almost instantly. Noah can't know what I am, at least not yet. Im not ready to tell him yet. He _can't_ know.

I yank my hand away and hurriedly grab a dish towel from the counter. "Yeah its just a scratch. Nothing too bad." I lie. I plastered a fake smile on my face, praying he wouldn't press it any further. Panic was coursing through my veins.

The unconvinced look on his face told me everything.

"There's blood running down your arm," he said matter-of-factly. I shook my head again.

"No, no it'll be fine." I argued. My heart was racing. I don't know how I'm going to get out of this.

"Brayden, you might need stitches. Can we at least rinse it off so I can get a good look at it?" he asked. My hand still hurt like hell and it wasn't helping this situation at all.

Maybe it wasn't healing yet? I might've cut my hand deeper than I had thought. It would take at least a minute to heal if it was deep. For a moment I thought that maybe if I rinsed it off it would still be injured enough to pass off as just a scratch. But before I could decide on what to do Noah has holding my injured hand in his, inspecting what I hope to be a wound.

I spared a glance at his face, praying to not see a look of horror. His face remained concerned, but not frightened. He quickly ushered me over to the sink and ran my hand under the faucet. The cool water did nothing to calm me down.

I glanced down at my hand, still in Noah's grasp. But when the last of the blood was washed off, there was no sign anything had ever happened. My heart plummeted. All the air was sucked from my lungs in fear.

"What the hell?" Noah asked, clearly confused. He looked from my hand to the still bloody counter and then back to me. His eyes were demanding an answer. But I couldn't look at them any more. I couldn't look him in the eyes and come up with some lie to explain what just happened. He dropped my hand and gave me an accusing stare.

"Noah, I…" I trailed off, not even knowing what I was going to say. I couldn't even think, let alone speak.

"What the hell just happened?" he demanded. His voice slightly louder than it had been. My heart was hammering in my chest.

"Please, please don't make me tell you." I whispered. I knew my face showed the fear I felt.

"I just watched you slice you hand open, then it healed within seconds. I can't just forget about this." Noah said while shaking his head.

"I trust you," I admit with a small voice. "It scares me to death how much I trust you." Noah's face softens. "But I still can't tell you." He immediately turns away in frustration. "This is so much more than me not wanting to tell you. _I can't_." I plead. He whips around to face me again.

"And why not?" he says. "What could you possibly be hiding? Are you on something? Is that why you healed so quickly? You're on some kind of drug?"

"No! It's just…" I exhale in frustration. "I can't tell you because if I tell you, you will never look at me the same again." I admit. I was struggling to choke back tears. He blinked a few times but said nothing.

After a few beats he began to speak again. "Look at this from my angle. I'm pretty scared here too. I can't promise anything. I don't know how I'm going to react because I have no fucking clue what to expect." I could tell he was trying to remain calm, but his irritation was creeping to the surface.

He was right. I knew that he was right. We have become such close friends since he came back and it was eating me alive keeping secrets from him. I run my hand through my hair in thought. Noah just watched me, waiting for me to say something. I looked up at Noah's face. So many emotions were trapped in his jade colored eyes. He had been so supportive of me since I've known him. He helped me calm down from a panic attack for Christ's sake.

So as I looked into Noah's eyes I realized something. I wanted to tell him.

My parents have always told me for as long as I can remember, that I can never tell anyone. Not a single soul can know what we are. But my parents are gone now. When they were telling me that, they were thinking about friends from school or people at work. Noah was more than that. He wasn't just someone I knew, he was someone important to me.

"Okay," I state. "I'll tell you. But please just hear me out before you say anything. Its going to sound completely insane but I promise I'm telling you the truth okay?" Noah nods as a reply. He leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms, clearly listening. I could feel my chest constricting with nerves. If I don't tell him now i'll never get the courage to again. I wrung my hands together in front of me.

"I've never told anyone this. Absolutely no one," I state. "My family and I, we're different. We can do things that normal people can't," I start.

How the hell am I going to do this?

"We heal faster. Very very fast," he glanced down to my hand and then back up to my eyes. "We have quicker reflexes, heightened senses, and we can change." Noah didn't move. His eyes didn't leave mine and he was absolutely silent. I couldn't even tell if he was breathing, I know I wasn't. "We can change our appearance, our height, our build, into a completely different person," I trail off. "We are called Shapeshifters." Fear snuffed my voice out. I was now looking at him, hoping and praying for some sign that he wasn't going to hate me for this. I couldn't stand the thought of him hating me.

He didn't say a word. In the time that I have known him, I can't think of a single time Noah was as quiet as he is now.

Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Then he began quietly laughing. I could feel my shoulders drop in shock. I expected his initial response to be confusion, expressions of fear, or even anger. I never expected him to laugh.

His chucking continued for a few more seconds before he looks to me expectantly. I remained still, not sure what he was going to say or do next.

"I'm not joking, Noah." I hear myself whisper before I even think about it.

"You're not joking? Yeah okay. Sure, you're not joking. You and your family can heal impossibly fast, and turn into other people. Do you howl at the moon too?" he shot. I take a step back from shock. I tried to remember that he was tired and that he was scared. That's why he was being like this. I swallowed back the lump in my throat.

"I know that its hard to believe. I completely get that. But you wanted the truth." I paused and looked at the floor. "Im sorry that you had to find out this way, but I didn't want to lie to you." My chest ached with the dread. My eyes burned with unshed tears.

"I know i'm not normal but—"

"Not normal? You're not human." he barked. His voice was a stark contrast to the soft words he spoke when looking at my injured hand.

For the first time in a while I looked up into his eyes. I stared at his once clear jade eyes, now bloodshot and dull, and I let his words sink in. _You're not human._ All the fight left me at once, and I let a single tear fall, and then another, and then another.

He was quiet now. The air around us was thick and hard to breathe. I wiped the tears from my cheeks slowly. I said nothing as Noah turned around and left the kitchen. I just watched him walk through the living room with hurried strides and disappear into his bedroom. He appeared a moment later holding a hoodie and hat. _He was leaving._

I took the handful of steps into the living room. I didn't dare get any closer to him. "You're leaving?" I ask, even though I already knew the answer. He only nods as a response. He seemed so far away. Earlier we were laughing and joking just a few inches from each other, but now there might as well be miles between us. Once he had the hoodie and the hat on, he turned to the door and reached for the knob.

"Noah?" I say, getting his attention. He looks back at me, his hand doesn't leave the doorknob. "I-I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." He turns away again and walks through the door.

The sound of the door shutting behind him was the final crack in the dam. Every wall inside of me came tumbling down. A sob escaped my throat. I was alone again. I felt like I did when I was 16. When I had just gotten my heart ripped out and now I was all alone to grieve. In this moment I realized that I hated being alone. I never wanted to be alone again.

 **A/N: I sincerely apologize for the emotional roller coaster you just went through. The next chapter will be a long awaited NOAH POV. I should have it posted within the next couple weeks or so. (i promise) BTW I saw a book the other day where the main characters name was Noah Archer and I just about fell out of my chair. The character is 6'2",has blond hair and green eyes. I feel personally attacked. Ik its a coincidence but it was extremely strange. Don't forget to vote on the poll on my profile!**


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